


Teaching Miss Mills

by HelveticaBrown



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 81,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2615678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelveticaBrown/pseuds/HelveticaBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teacher AU: Emma is a gym teacher, who moves to Storybrooke Academy after becoming disenchanted with her job back in Boston. Regina Mills is the Head of English who Emma somehow seems to keep having run-ins with, despite the best of intentions. Along the way, Emma adjusts to life in a small town, gets her teaching mojo back, and gradually grows closer to Regina. </p><p>No curse, no magic. Just regular human relationshippy drama.</p><p>NOW COMPLETE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing in this fandom, so please let me know if any of my portrayals seem massively out-of-character. I'm mostly doing this as an exercise to get back into writing longer works of fiction. Any feedback is welcome.

“Damn it!” Emma cursed as toothpaste dripped down her clean button-up. She tried scrubbing at it, but her efforts were in vain, and she realised that she was either going to have to change clothes, or turn up to her first day at a new job looking like a slob. She rifled through the pile of fresh laundry haphazardly strewn across the end of her bed, until she found a polo. As a gym teacher, she could usually get away with dressing down a bit. However, students weren’t due back until next week, so she didn’t really have an excuse for dressing in gym gear.

She grabbed her bag and walked out to her car and swore again as she caught sight of the flat tire. She groaned as she remembered that she hadn’t gotten around to replacing her spare after lending it to a friend back in Boston. It seemed that the universe was conspiring against her. She contemplated calling Triple A but quickly discarded that idea; there was no way they’d arrive and have her on the road soon enough to get her to work on time. She went back inside and changed clothes for a third time, pulling on running shoes, a wife-beater and running tights, and throwing a towel and a change of clothes into her backpack. The four miles or so to the school was pretty flat, and although she wasn’t quite in the peak condition she’d achieved in college, the run shouldn’t take more than half an hour. She figured she’d just have time to get there and grab a quick shower before her appointment with the headmistress. She put her earphones in and set off.

It felt good to stretch her legs; she’d been a bit slack about getting out there in the month since she’d secured the transfer to Storybrooke Academy. The hassle of preparing to uproot her life and move states had played havoc with her routine, but she resolved to go back to her daily run before she completely lost the habit. Her old coach back in college always said it was easier to stay fit than to get fit, and she found herself agreeing with him as she pushed through the initial tightness in her chest and her legs. She quickly settled into a familiar rhythm – inhale-stride-stride, exhale-stride-stride – and allowed herself to get lost in the music.

As she ran down the main street, she heard a couple of shouted greetings, and waved back. She’d only been in town for three days, but already a couple of the locals had started trying to draw her into town life. Mary Margaret, the local kindergarten teacher, had spotted her at Granny’s Diner on her first day in town and immediately issued her with an invitation to have dinner with her and her husband David. Back in Boston, anyone behaving like that was either crazy or after something. Emma had tried to decline gracefully, unused to the easy friendliness Mary Margaret radiated. She’d been surprised at Mary Margaret’s response to her attempts to sidestep the invitation: mortification. “Of course, how inconsiderate of me. You’ve only just arrived and you must be tired and busy trying to set up. Maybe another time when you’re properly settled in.”

Despite her successful avoidance of the dinner invitation, the next day she had opened her door to find Mary Margaret standing there with a casserole dish and an offer to help her unpack. She’d sighed inwardly, opening the door wider and gesturing for Mary Margaret to follow her in. She had cracked open a bottle of wine and figured that she might as well make the best of it. And as it turned out, she’d discovered that she actually kind of enjoyed Mary Margaret’s company.

She contemplated the circumstances that had brought her to this strange, sleepy little coastal town, circumstances that had forced her to question her vocation as a teacher. On some level, she’d known that teaching could be hard, dangerous even, but she hadn’t really thought about that in relation to herself. So when a student pulled a knife in her class and threatened another student, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the way it would affect her. When her roommate’s mother had mentioned she’d heard about a suitable vacancy from a colleague, Emma had jumped at the chance to escape Boston. She had taken the job, hoping that a fresh start and a slower pace might give her some perspective on events and help her come to a decision about where she should go from here.

She continued on her way, lost in thought. When she ran, sometimes she became so focused that anything outside her body, outside the rhythmic pumping of arms and legs, outside the steady regular sounds of her breaths, faded away. It was like that today – the world effectively ceased to exist for her – until she was abruptly brought back to the present moment by the thud of a body colliding with her own, her breath whooshing out of her. She pulled her earphones out and looked down in bemusement at the obstacle that had inserted itself into her path, as she tried to get her breathing under control.

The ‘obstacle’ stared back at her, eyes swiftly filling with fury.

Emma stood there for a moment, gaping at the woman unexpectedly sprawled on the ground in front of her, belatedly remembering how to speak. In her rush to apologise, she spoke in one near unintelligible string, “OhshitsorryIdidn’tseeyouareyouokayisthereanythingIcandotohelp?” She thrust a hand out, offering to help her up. The woman glared at her, ignoring the proffered hand and pushing herself up off the ground. The fury in the woman’s eyes briefly turned to pain, before the angry mask slid back down.

Emma continued to babble on, offering apologies, Advil, and band-aids that she didn’t have. Finally, the woman spoke, her lips curling with a hint of a snarl. Her voice was measured, polite, but leaving Emma with no doubts about the contempt she was on the receiving end of. “Thank you, but I think you’ve done quite enough.” Then, the woman turned and stormed off to a Mercedes parked down the street.

Emma stood there, staring after her. It wasn’t even nine in the morning, and already she was left wondering what further disaster would rain down upon her in what had already been a complete shit-storm of a day. She wondered who the woman was; she had been dressed elegantly, in a grey suit and heels that were high, but not too high. Her hair was short, cut in a fashion that could only be described as ‘politician hair’; with her luck, it was the Mayor’s wife or something. Emma crossed her fingers and fervently hoped that the woman was a tourist, just in town for the day. Storybrooke was a small town, after all, and she really didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot.

She set off again, picking up her pace to make up the time that she’d lost after tangling with the mystery woman. She breathed a sigh of relief as she sighted the gates of Storybrooke Academy; 8:50am, and she was due to meet Headmistress Lucas at 9:00am. She made her way through the parking lot, stopping the first person she came across to get directions to the staff locker room. Thankfully, she’d mastered the art of the two-minute shower during her time in various foster homes, so she was scrubbed and ready to go outside the Headmistress’ office at 8:59.

Emma took a deep breath and walked into the outer office. A woman, perhaps a couple of years younger than herself looked up from her mobile phone and offered her a wide smile.

“Hey. You must be Emma Swan. I’m Ruby, the Headmistress’ assistant.”

Emma was a little surprised at this. Emma’s impression of Headmistress Lucas when she’d interviewed for the role over the phone had been of an older, conservative woman. Ruby didn’t quite fit into the picture she’d built; she’d expected a similarly conservative assistant. Instead, Ruby sported an easy, open smile, a red streak in her hair and an outfit that was definitely pushing the boundaries of what constituted respectable office attire. Emma half-expected her to snap some chewing gum and twirl her hair.

Emma mentally shook herself, realising that her staring was verging on rudeness. “Yeah, that’s me. I um… I’ve got an appointment to see the Headmistress.”

“Just head on through; she’s expecting you. Afterwards, I’ll take you for a tour around the school and get you up to speed with who’s who in the zoo. This afternoon, we’ve got our first staff meeting for the school year, so you’ll get a chance to meet everyone later today.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

Emma took a deep breath, wiping suddenly sweaty palms against her pants. There was something about taking that first step through an unfamiliar doorway that always made her heart beat a little faster. Throughout her childhood, there had been a succession of doors, each representing the beginning of a new potential threat, each leading to strange lands with a range of traps and pitfalls to navigate. She’d been fortunate; sometimes she’d been met with kindness, more often with benign neglect, very occasionally with the genuine possibility of danger.

She’d learned very early that not everyone in the system was as lucky as she had been, that monsters were real and very often hid in in plain sight. This knowledge had made her cautious, made her accustomed to questioning everyone’s motives. She’d become adept at judging people, at recognising both sincerity and the intent to harm, developing a near-infallible sense of when a lie was spoken. This wariness had saved her on more than one occasion, allowing her to sense danger before it fully developed and to extricate herself from sticky situations.

Today, there should be no such danger, other than the ever-present possibility of making a fool of herself. She looked back at Ruby, who smiled encouragingly at her, before steeling herself and turning the door knob to the inner office.

She stepped through the door, taking a moment to survey her surroundings. The furniture was antique, tasteful in dark tones. The walls were lined with bookshelves housing a range of volumes, including what Emma, with her untrained eye, suspected were a significant number of first editions.

The Headmistress stepped out from behind a large, ornate desk, extending her hand, smiling warmly. The Headmistress was short, with a kindly, grandmotherly appearance. Her face was marked with the type of lines that indicated a tendency to smile rather than frown. Emma relaxed her guard. Her first impressions tended to be right, and her impression of Headmistress Lucas was one of kindness and generosity. That was reinforced as the Headmistress spoke.

“Miss Swan, how wonderful to finally meet you.”

Emma took the offered hand, noting the surprisingly firm grip.

The Headmistress gestured towards a pair of Chesterfields in the corner of the office. “Please, take a seat. Ruby should be in with some tea shortly, and we can have a chat.”

Emma sat in the chair she’d been directed to, her fingers idly skimming across the buttery leather. “Thank you Headmistress. I’m looking forward to the opportunity to teach at Storybrooke Academy. Everything I’ve heard about the school is incredibly positive, and I can’t wait for classes to start.” As she spoke, she realised that she was trying to convince herself of her eagerness, more than the Headmistress.

“I’m glad that you’ve heard good things about us, Miss Swan – we’ve worked very hard to build a reputation for excellence in all fields. I’m very much hoping that you can improve our reputation in one respect. As you may know, our track team’s performance over the past few years has been, shall we say, dreadful, and that’s being charitable.

“Your work at your previous school in Boston to build up the track program, and your success as a college athlete certainly caught my eye, and that of the Board, and that’s what gave you the edge over the other candidates we interviewed for the role. We’re very much hoping that you will be able to replicate that success at Storybrooke Academy. We will be providing you with significant resources to turn the program around, and we will be open to considering any further requests you make.”

Emma felt some of her doubts evaporate at this. The prospect of being able to shape the athletics program at Storybrooke, with access to better resources actually gave her a bit of a buzz. Back in Boston, teaching in a poorer neighbourhood, she’d had access to minimal funds and limited facilities. Some of the kids didn’t have access to appropriate equipment, such as running shoes, and she’d had to be very creative about finding ways to get her hands on what her students needed. She’d found the work she’d done on the athletics program incredibly rewarding, but the opportunity to implement her vision without having to overcome countless obstacles filled her with a new kind of excitement.

There was a knock at the door, and Ruby entered carrying a tray with an old-fashioned silver teapot, cups and a jug of milk. She poured the tea, setting a cup before Emma with a saucy wink, before quickly departing.

Headmistress Lucas sipped contemplatively at her tea for a moment before grimacing. “My great-niece has many talents. Unfortunately, making good tea is not one of them. She learned to make quite good coffee working in my sister Eugenia’s diner, but despite all of my best efforts, she simply can’t get tea right.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Ruby’s your great-niece?” The thought of the slightly vampish assistant being related to the prim, proper woman in front of her seemed incredibly unlikely.

The Headmistress smiled at her surprise. “She is. My sister Eugenia and I raised Ruby after her parents died.

“You’ll find that a lot in Storybrooke. It’s the kind of town that people don’t really leave, and we so rarely see strange faces in town. Everyone is connected to pretty much everyone else in one way or another.”

Not for the first time since arriving in town, Emma wondered what she’d gotten herself into.

******

After her meeting with the Headmistress, Ruby took her on the promised tour of the campus. A lot of the teaching staff were not on campus yet, not needing to arrive until later in the day for the first staff meeting for the new school term. Ruby chattered away to her, dropping tidbits about each of her new colleagues as they made their way through the school.

Emma was only half paying attention to Ruby’s never-ending stream of gossip, too busy taking in the school facilities. It was incredible how different Storybrooke’s campus was to her old school. Instead of the dark, claustrophobic buildings and bleak concrete of Boston, there were bright, airy buildings and open, grassy, tree-lined expanses. The campus was beautiful, and Emma took a moment to imagine it filled with students, of how wonderfully alive it might look.

She realised she’d zoned out and hadn’t said anything for a while. “So the Headmistress is your great-aunt?”

“She is, although you couldn’t tell by looking at us. She and my grandmother raised me though, so she’s more like a mother to me.”

Emma smiled wistfully at that. She was a little envious of the family that had stepped up to raise Ruby. She would have given anything for that. “She seems really nice.”

“She is. Don’t let that sweet exterior fool you though. Underneath that, there’s a backbone of tempered steel. Rumour has it that when she was a young teacher, great-aunt Ethel held off a marauding band of Somalian sea-pirates with a fishing rod and a pocket knife, saving her twenty students from certain death.”

Emma snorted at this. “Is that true?”

Ruby grinned. “I don’t know, but it seems plausible. She’s always slept with a shotgun beside her pillow, and I know that she knows how to use it. She and Granny have been duking it out for first place in the shooting contest at the annual Storybrooke fair for as long as I can remember. No one else even bothers to enter anymore.”

Ruby continued. “Rumour also has it that she’s one hundred and seventy-three years old. I’m not sure about that one, but she’s definitely been a key figure in Storybrooke for as long as anyone can remember. She pretty much single-handedly built the Academy up from a small town school to one of the more prestigious institutions in the state.”

They’d visited most of the buildings, meeting a few of the faculty along the way. They were currently walking through the sporting fields, and Emma was almost salivating at the prospect of the facilities she would have access to. Ruby looked at her watch. “We’d better start heading back now. Don’t want you to be late for your first meeting.”

“So apart from your great-aunt and her shotgun is there anyone else I should watch out for?” Emma was keen to get the lie of the land before the staff meeting.

“Mostly, everyone’s pretty cool. But you’ll want to watch out for the English department. The Head of English, Regina Mills, is a bit of a hard case, and her deputy, Sidney Glass is a real sneaky bastard. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. But Regina’s the one you really have to watch out for. A couple of years ago, some of the senior students started referring to her the Evil Queen. It stuck, and some of the faculty started to use the name as well.”

They made their way back to the admin building, and Ruby led her to the staff boardroom taking a seat at the far end, facing the door. Ruby whispered to her as each of the staff members filed in.

“That’s Belle. She works in the library. We usually go out for drinks on the weekend – you should totally join us sometime.

“That guy there is Archie Hopper. He’s the guidance counsellor. Really sweet guy, and great to talk to.

“Those guys over there are in the science department. Kathryn, the blonde, teaches chemistry, and Fred teaches physics.

“Marco’s the workshop teacher. He makes the coolest wooden furniture – if you need to get your house kitted up, go see him and he’ll sort you out.”

Ruby continued to fill her in.

Emma was trying her best to keep all of the names straight. “Okay, so that’s Sidney? Which one is Regina?”

Ruby looked around the room. “She’s not here yet, which is pretty unusual. She’s usually here early, looking cranky if anyone is even so much as a minute late.”

As the steady stream of staff members turned to a trickle, the Headmistress began to speak, welcoming everyone back for the new school year. Emma shifted her focus from the door to pay attention to the speech, barely registering a latecomer slipping in to the room.

Ruby nudged her and hissed. “That’s Regina.”

Emma looked up at the newcomer, and felt all the colour draining from her face as she realised that the anonymous victim of her ‘hit and run’ that morning was, in fact, one Regina Mills. One Regina Mills who seemed to be eyeing her in a way that gave her the distinct feeling that hikers would find her body in several months time in Storybrooke Forest, chopped up into little pieces.

“Shit.” Emma swore under her breath.

Headmistress Lucas continued to speak. “And now, it gives me great pleasure to welcome our new gym teacher, and head of the track program, Miss Emma Swan.”

Emma barely registered the smiles and the welcomes being voiced by her new colleagues. She only had eyes for one of them.

“Track? I was under the impression that Miss Swan had been brought in as a new defensive coach for the football team. She certainly seems to have a talent for running people over.” Regina’s voice could only be described as acerbic.

Emma blushed hotly, and felt herself getting riled up. Before she could stop herself, she bit back, “And you apparently don’t think the laws of physics apply. I was running way too fast to stop.”

Regina folded her arms and glared, and Emma belatedly noticed the bandage on her wrist. A bandage that hadn’t been there this morning. “Maybe you should save the Olympics impression for the track, rather than the sidewalk of the main street.”

“Oh crap.” Emma groaned to herself, and sunk down into her seat, wishing she could disappear. Way to start things out on the right foot. She remembered hearing that bad things came in threes. It seemed that the old saying was true.

The rest of the staff watched their exchange with some bemusement. Ruby’s whisper was sympathetic. “Guess the advice to watch out for Regina came a little too late.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. Thanks for the kudos and the kind comments. I've managed to get this second chapter out pretty quickly, but it's likely to be a slightly longer gap to the next chapter. Things are moving along slowly but surely in this chapter - Emma's not quite ready to attempt to solve the puzzle that is Regina, but she's starting to find her feet a little more. You'll just have to be patient... :)  
> Another note - I don't speak "American" and I'm not a teacher, so you'll have to excuse any inconsistencies or inaccuracies. I've tried to use American terms as much as possible, but I'll probably slip here and there, and any knowledge I have of the American education system I've garnered from television, so I'm bound to get a few things wrong...

**Chapter 2**

After the staff meeting had finished she tried to approach Regina, hoping to smooth things over. She figured that it really wasn’t worth antagonising one of her colleagues before the school year had even really started. As she approached, Regina pinned her with another one of those glares, all but stopping Emma in her tracks. Emma was about to open her mouth to apologise again, and find out if she was badly injured, when Regina cut her off.

“Miss Swan, I’m really not interested in round two. I would like to retain one hand that works. Perhaps you can borrow a tackle bag from the football department to keep you occupied.”

Emma gaped at her for a moment. Regina managed to deliver the most scathing lines in the most even tones, and it took her a moment to realise when she was being insulted. “But I…”

“No Miss Swan, I’m really not interested in hearing what you’ve got to say.” Regina cut her off again, before walking purposefully towards Sidney. She turned her back on Emma, starting a conversation with Sidney and making it perfectly clear that she wouldn’t tolerate any further approach. Emma left, deflated.

She waited a few days, hoping that time might help to moderate Regina’s immediate anger. She grabbed an extra pastry on her way to work one morning, hoping that sugar, the magic cure-all would prove to be an effective olive branch. It always worked on her, anyway, so she figured it was worth a shot. She approached Regina in her office before classes started, knocking tentatively.

Emma opened the door, stepping into the office at Regina’s summons. Regina looked up from a pile of quizzes she was grading, the frown of concentration on her face quickly transforming to irritation when she saw who had interrupted her.

Emma held up the brown paper bag, smiling winningly.

“I just happened to be in Granny’s this morning, and I noticed that she had some rather tasty-looking pastries for sale. I thought that maybe you and I could have a little chat and iron out this little misunderstanding.”

“Miss Swan, I’m in the middle of grading quizzes. If you taught a real subject rather than just getting students to put their right foot in front of their left and so on, you might actually understand that teaching involves work.”

Emma felt a little disheartened at this attack, but she was determined to get it right this time. “But a break and some sugar might help you get through those papers a little quicker. Stopping to refuel is always an important part of a successful strategy.”

“Miss Swan, I don’t eat sugar.”

Emma hadn’t counted on this possible flaw in her plan. “But everyone eats sugar. Sugar is a wonderful magical thing that helps people leap tall buildings in a single bound. It helps people break Olympic records. I know that I couldn’t function without it.”

“Miss Swan, I’m not entirely sure that you can function with it, either.”

It took Emma a moment to register the insult. “Hey! That’s not fair.”

Regina regarded her silently, crossing her arms.

“Listen Regina, I’m sorry about the other day, it really was an accident. Is your arm okay?”

Emma paused, waiting for a response that didn’t come.

Trying desperately to fill a silence that probably was best left undisturbed, Emma said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Why do you always call me Miss Swan, anyway? I get it when there are students around, but there aren’t any here at the moment.”

Regina ignored her question. “Miss Swan. Which part of _I’m busy_ don’t you understand?”

The effort of keeping her grin in place was starting to hurt her jaw muscles, and she suspected that she was probably starting to look a little manic. She noticed the vein in Regina’s forehead throbbing a little, and figured that that was probably her cue to leave, before Regina’s head turned into a mushroom cloud.

“I’ll just leave this here in case you have a student have a hypoglycaemic attack or something. You can never be too prepared for emergencies.”

“Miss Swan…” Regina almost growled as Emma fled, after tossing the brown paper bag onto her desk. Emma could have sworn that she heard the rustle of a paper bag being opened as she was making her way down the hall away from the office, but she wasn’t willing to risk her life to find out.

After that largely failed attempt at brokering peace, she’d done her best to avoid Regina. Ruby advised her to lay low where Regina was concerned – she was well-known for her ability to hold a grudge. It wasn’t particularly difficult; she quickly got a feel for comings and goings of the other teachers, and tended to avoid the staff common room as much as possible when there was a chance that Regina might be there. For the most part, their interactions were relatively limited, belonging to different departments in the school. Eventually, they seemed to arrive at something of a ceasefire, but Emma really didn’t want to push it. There hadn’t been another major incident – Regina had been detached, professional – but there also wasn’t even the slightest hint of warmth or friendliness from Regina.

*****

In the second week back, Emma held open trials for the track team, and she was starting to suspect that all the money and shiny, shiny facilities in the world would not be enough to improve Storybrooke’s record. The program under the old coach had been allowed to atrophy to the point of no return, and Emma was ready to pretty much write off any hope of significant improvement among the students. She’d barely had enough turn up to trials to fill the squad, and most of those who had shown up were out of condition, had poor technique, and were entirely lacking in any kind of work ethic. A couple had even shown up without their gym gear, looking surprised when she’d actually expected them to engage in strenuous physical activity. When she’d tried pushing them all to work harder, most had stared at her in bemusement, before continuing to plod along without any evidence of effort.

One of the students had all but collapsed after the one mile warm-up run she’d sent them on, and she was worried that she might actually have to administer CPR. The Headmistress really hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said that dreadful was a charitable description.

Later, Ruby had filled her in on the situation with the previous coach, Leroy. He’d been running a scam where students looking to broaden their range of extra-curriculars for their college applications could join the track team. He’d take their money, and in return, they got the credit, without actually having to attend training. The only expectation was that they’d show up for meets, where they would have to ‘compete’, if it could really be called that. The genuinely talented athletes had learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t worth their time and found other sports to play, leaving behind the most singularly untalented bunch of athletes Emma had ever come across.

Emma had pored over the team’s results going back the last five years, trying to identify any bright spots, any potential she might be able to work with and came up blank. The previous season, only one athlete had managed a first place at any meet throughout the year. She’d felt a little spark of excitement, until she asked around and found out that three of the opposition runners had pulled out minutes before the race with a virus, one had torn a hamstring running down the home straight, and the two other front runners had tripped each other up jostling for position. Effectively, it had been a win by forfeit.

She felt like crying when she thought of the facilities going to waste. The headmistress hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said that there were significant resources being made available. The school’s running track was to an international competition standard, she had access to an ultra-modern weights and conditioning room, and even a suite of biomechanical analysis software. The thought of a bunch of unappreciative, entitled rich kids getting access to all of this when her students back in Boston had had so little, but so much potential, made her a little sick.

She’d had no choice but to pick anyone who turned up to the trials – she needed a squad – but she made it clear that the track team was not going to be a free pass this year. Half the squad had dropped out after the first training session, with the remainder being desperate enough for the extra-curricular that they continued to show up.

She quickly realised that without a change of strategy, she was barely going to cobble together enough athletes to compete at the first meet of the season. Instead, she was going to have to be a lot more aggressive with her plan to rebuild the team. She changed up her teaching plan, and started using gym classes as de facto trials for the track team. The students had been surprisingly receptive; Leroy had apparently enjoyed subjecting them to the high school equivalent of Roman bloodsports, otherwise known as dodgeball, on any possible occasion.

After a lot of work, she managed to pick out a few possible talents among the kids in her classes, and some even agreed to come along to a couple of sessions to give it a try. She also started to scope out the other teachers’ classes, and watched a few training sessions for the other sports teams at the school.

After some further investigation into the resources available to her, she discovered that the school periodically offered sporting scholarships. In the past, they’d typically gone to footballers or swimmers, but the Headmistress had been easily persuaded to open one up for a track athlete. After a couple of weekends scouting in the adjacent counties, she managed to find a couple of worthy prospects.

Gradually, she was starting to build a roster, but with the late start, she wasn’t holding out much hope for a strong result in the first couple of meets for the season. She had already discussed the Headmistress’ and the Board’s expectations around performance this season, and they’d been relatively understanding of the total lack of any prospect of finishing the season in a top-ranked position. However, even the more modest goal of a mid-table finish meant that she’d need to oversee a turnaround of Emilio Estevez-like proportions. Unfortunately, unlike Emilio, her Mighty Ducks were for the most part decidedly lacking in raw, unshaped talent, and she sincerely doubted that there was a hot single mother waiting in the wings to sweep her off her feet.

Beyond the frustrations of trying to build a track team from less than scratch, Emma reflected that things were actually going pretty well for her. Unlike Boston, where she had managed to remain fairly detached, life in Storybrooke had a way of forcing a degree of intimacy, whether you liked it or not. She quickly discovered that trying to remain anonymous in the small town was next to impossible, and she now knew more people after a few weeks living in Storybrooke, than she’d met in Boston in the previous five years.

Emma had always been a bit of a loner, so it came as a surprise to her that not only was she making friends pretty quickly, she actually kind of liked it. Ruby had pretty much latched on to her at the outset, being close to her in age, and desperately keen to get a taste of life outside of Storybrooke, even vicariously. She’d been drawn to Emma’s vastly different experience, and had drunkenly confided in her one Friday night that she was afraid that she’d never make it out of Storybrooke, and out into the real world. Having been adopted by Ruby, she instantly gained access to a wider group of friends, and had a standing invite to their regular Friday night drinks.

She also eventually relented and had dinner with Mary Margaret and her husband David, who she had since discovered was the football coach at school. Mary Margaret was so utterly unlike anyone she’d ever met before, so genuine, so untainted, and she was surprised at how much she liked her. They had almost nothing in common, and yet she still felt incredibly at ease in her presence. David was incredibly sweet as well, and they’d started to build a great rapport as colleagues. He ribbed her a little about her intentions towards his football players after becoming aware of her covert scouting operations, but had almost been receptive when she’d suggested that a few of them might benefit from joining the track team.

She also discovered another benefit of living in a small town – the ability to go running without inhaling half a tonne of exhaust fumes and other nasty stuff. Consequently, her plan to get back into a routine was actually progressing better than she’d expected, and she was actually thinking of entering her first half-marathon since she’d started teaching. Storybrooke and its surrounds provided a wonderfully varied environment to run in, and while most of her training was down at the track or through the town, she’d also throw in the occasional trail run in the forest.

She tried to run to and from the school at least a couple of times a week, finding the more active start to the day set her in the right frame of mind. It also helped alleviate some of the guilt she felt about her regular morning stops at Granny’s for a bear claw. Granny had taken to keeping one aside for her each morning, and her regular coffee order was always being made as she walked through the door. She had even managed to avoid running over any colleagues recently – life was good.

One afternoon, she was heading out the school gates for her usual run home when a student came running past her at a decent clip. She stopped to stare after him, not recognising him as being in any of her classes or on the track team. As she stood there, another group of kids came pushing past her, shouting. She yelled in surprise, “Hey, stop!” but they continued on, chasing after the first kid. She started to jog after the stampede of children, following them for a few hundred yards until the chasing group came to a stop, out of breath.

She approached the group, and noticed it included the Zimmer twins from the middle school, kids she’d been warned were among the usual troublemakers.

“Hey, what are you kids up to?” She stood there with her hands on her hips and summoned up her best teacher voice.

The group looked at her, suddenly the picture of innocence. Ava stepped forward, apparently the spokesperson for the group. “Nothing Miss. We’re just playing a game of tag.”

Emma raised her eyebrows incredulously at this. “You know, back when I was a kid, tag usually involved one kid chasing everybody else, rather than the other way round.”

Ava continued, apparently unphased. “We play by slightly different rules in Storybrooke. Anyway Miss, I bet it’s been a long time since you played tag – it’s probably changed a lot since then.”

Emma couldn’t quite believe the front of this kid. She had to remind herself that she was only twelve. “You know, if you want to run around, get some exercise, I’m always looking for new recruits for the track team. Anyway, who was that kid you were chasing?”

Ava continued smoothly, apparently a seasoned liar. “Thanks for the offer Miss, but we prefer to play our own games. Anyway, can we go now? We have to meet our friend at the ice cream parlour. If we didn’t catch him, we were supposed to meet him there.”

Emma sighed, feeling a little like she was being made an accessory to a crime. She resolved to keep an eye on the situation, just as soon as she could figure out who the kid they’d been chasing was. She looked up for the first kid, hoping to spot him in the distance, but it seemed that he’d long since gone. She continued her run home, unable to stop thinking about the mystery boy. He was the first student she’d seen who looked like he might have some real potential to work with. He certainly seemed fit enough, although his form was incredibly inefficient. However, that sort of technique could be taught, particularly if you got a chance to work with a kid early enough.

*****

Over the next few days, Emma continued to search for her mystery boy. She’d figured out that if the Zimmer twins were involved, he was likely to be in the sixth or seventh grade, so she started taking the opportunity to scout out the lunch groups that the middle school kids formed. She made her way around to pretty much every group over a couple of days with no luck. Another time, she tried the library, in case he was hiding there. Belle saw her come in and looked at her with amused surprise.

Belle teased her lightly. “Why, Emma, I didn’t think you even knew the way to the library. You know we only keep books here – no balls or running shoes.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve seen the inside of a library or two in my time. Usually because it was the only classroom with air-conditioning, but still. Surely that counts for something.” Emma responded to Belle’s teasing good-naturedly.

“So, if you’re not lost, is there something I can help you with?”

“Have you seen any boys in here, around sixth or seventh grade, short, a bit scrawny, with brown hair?” Emma realised as she was saying it that it wasn’t the most useful description.

Belle laughed. “You know, that description would match with roughly one hundred students.”

“Okay, yes, stupid question.”

Belle was curious. “Why, what are you up to?”

Emma grinned at her, a slightly manic gleam in her eye. “I’ve found my miracle boy. The one who might actually manage to win me a couple of races this season. Well, I’ve sort of found him – I just need to figure out who he is, find him, and then persuade him to join the track team.”

Belle threw her hands up. “Okay crazy lady. You’re welcome to check out the library for your mystery boy. Just try not to bother anyone.”

Emma thanked her, before commencing a precision search pattern through the stacks and the quiet study area.

A little while later, she returned to the front desk feeling despondent. “No luck,” she sighed, before heading back out to get to her next class.

On day five, she broadened her search pattern, and finally found the kid hanging out by himself behind the groundskeeper’s shed. He was immersed in a book of some sort, and didn’t immediately notice her approach.

“Hey kid.”

He startled at the sound of her voice, looking up at her with panic written all over his face. He seemed to relax slightly for a moment before starting to babble an explanation. “Um hi Miss. Graham doesn’t mind if I’m down here. I just like the quiet…” He trailed off.

She smiled at the hint of a lisp. Cute. Unfortunately, the other kids might not see it that way.

“Hey. I’m not here to get you into trouble. I get it, sometimes you just need some space to think. What’s your name?” Emma spoke softly, crouching down to his level.

“I’m Henry. You’re Miss Swan, right? The new gym teacher?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Hey listen, Henry. I saw you running the other day out the school gates. Were those kids giving you trouble? Is that why you’re hanging out down here?”

“No Miss, nothing happened. I just like it down here, that’s all.”

He said it a little too brightly, and Emma could sense that he was lying, but she knew better than to press him on it straight away. She knew the signs – hell, she’d been that kid once or twice. With a little more time, a little trust built, maybe she could find out what was going on.

“Okay Henry, that’s cool. Listen, I actually have a big favour to ask you.”

Henry looked at her, surprised, and perhaps a little intrigued.

“Maybe you’ve heard that I’m recruiting for the track team. I saw you running the other day, and I thought that maybe you could come along to a session and try out.”

He hesitated. “Umm… I don’t know.”

She rushed to reassure him. “Hey, I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think you had what it takes. From the little bit I saw of you the other day, you’re a natural. I need kids like you on the team.”

He continued to look conflicted. “I don’t know if I can really make it to training after school. I’d have to check with my mom.”

“Hey, that’s okay. I do have a training session at lunchtime on a Wednesday each week, so maybe you can see if she’s okay with you coming along and trying it out once or twice. See if you like it.”

He nodded. “Okay. Maybe I’ll see you this Wednesday.”

“See you later Henry.”

Emma couldn’t suppress the grin that broke out at this small victory. _Finally_ , she was making some progress. She walked back up to the staff room, a spring in her step. If she could have been certain that no one would see her, she probably would have skipped, or let out a celebratory fist pump. Unfortunately, as a teacher, reputation was everything.


	3. Chapter 3

Henry proved to be everything Emma could have hoped for when she’d scouted him. She'd been uncertain whether he would actually turn up to try out, so when she spotted him hiding out in the grandstand at her regular lunchtime session, she was over the moon. He wasn’t dressed for training, but he was fidgeting with a bag of gym gear, eyeing the group longingly. She deputised one of the senior team members to lead the group for a warm up jog and some dynamic stretches and made her way over to where Henry was hiding out.

“Hey kid. Glad you could make it. Why aren’t you suited up?”

He looked at his shoes and scuffed the ground while answering. “Hi Miss Swan. I came, but I wasn’t sure you really wanted me to try out.”

Emma could sense there was more to it than that, but she let it slide for the moment. “Kid, of course I want you to try out. I wouldn’t waste your time or mine. Go get kitted out, and meet me down at the track. No messing around – I expect you there within five minutes.”

She clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, off you go. Skedaddle.”

He nodded and ran off to the locker rooms to get changed. Emma shook her head in amused exasperation and made her way down to the team, who were just starting to stretch.

“Okay kids. We’re doing a core strength session today. If you’re not feeling a little bit sore by the end of the day, then I’m not doing my job properly.”

The team groaned. “Aww… Coach.” Just when they started to get used to Emma’s training methods she’d throw in another curve ball.

Emma laughed the signature laugh of evil track coaches the world around. “Oh, you guys’ll be cursing me tomorrow, but you’ll thank me later on. Running isn’t just about the legs – it’s about the way you use your whole body. A strong core means greater stability when you run, which means greater efficiency and less injuries. So, I’m going to teach you a few exercises, which I want you all to keep doing regularly.”

Emma was in the process of correcting a few of the kids in plank position when Henry emerged from the locker room. When Henry wandered over, she sent the team off for a drinks break.

“Hey kid. I want you to start off with a warm-up run. Go for a couple of easy laps of the track and then come see me when you’re done.”

Emma watched him take off. As she’d expected, his form could use some serious work, but she was pleased to see that he made it around for a couple of laps with ease. By that time, the team were back from their drinks break, and she set them another couple of exercises, while she took Henry through some basic stretches.

After she judged him to be suitably warmed up, she sent him off for a longer run.

“Okay kid, I’m going to get you to run four laps. I want you to do it as fast as you can – I’m going to be timing you. Just make sure you don’t go out too hard – pace yourself a little bit, keep some in reserve for the end.”

She started her watch as he took off, and she turned her attention to the main group, still keeping an eye on Henry.

“Okay guys, you’re going to love this one. It’s called a superman.” She dropped to the ground to demonstrate, while they all gave her long-suffering looks.

She set them to the exercise and watched Henry run. As she’d expected, he had gone out a little too hard, and he dropped off towards the end. However, his time for the mile was quite impressive considering his lack of conditioning, race practice, and the fact that he was running solo rather than against a group. Just over 6 minutes for a mile – he’d need to get that down closer to 5 minutes to be competitive for his age group. However, he’d definitely clocked a quicker time than most of the middle school students at the trials, including those a couple of years older than him.

He made his way over to her, breathing heavily.

“Nice work, kid. That was a pretty good time.”

His face lit up with a smile.

“Don’t get too complacent though – there’s plenty of work to do to get you running a great time.”

He nodded, still panting, before starting to sit down. “Of course, Miss Swan.”

Emma shook her head. “I want you to keep walking around until your breathing slows down – don’t even think about sitting, it’ll just make you feel sick. After a couple of minutes, I want you to do a really slow lap of the track, do a couple of stretches, and then you can hit the showers. And make sure you have a good drink of water afterwards.”

He nodded his understanding, walking off slowly towards the other side of the track.

She called after him, “And Henry, I expect to see you on time to my next session. 3:30pm sharp on Friday afternoon. If you ask around, you’ll find out that I’m not very kind to latecomers.”

*****

The track team continued to make progress over the next couple of weeks, much to Emma’s satisfaction. Henry started showing up to training regularly, although he couldn’t make every session due to music lessons, and he’d had to run off early a couple of times. As she had suspected, Henry was a natural talent, and with a little work, he had already shaved a few seconds off his time for the mile. She was also pleased to see that he was starting to come out of his shell around some of the other kids – she’d even seen him eating lunch with some of his teammates once or twice.

One afternoon, towards the end of a training session, a storm started to roll in. Emma looked at the approaching dark clouds and swore. She blew her whistle to get the kids to stop their run and come over to her.

“Okay guys, looks like we’re going to have to cut this one short. It’s starting to look pretty hairy, and I’d probably be in a bit of trouble if any of you were struck by lightning.”

Emma sent the boarding school students back up to the boarding houses in a group, instructing the seniors to keep everyone in check and to head straight there. Of the local students, most of the team were usually picked up by their parents after training sessions, or had a regular ride arranged with one of their teammates. Emma saw them all safely off, and then turned to Henry, who had insisted that he needed to go back up to the main school building to get his things before he was picked up. She’d tried to convince him to get a ride home with someone else, but he had been adamant.

“Okay kid. I’m going to come with you and make sure you get there safely. I don’t like the look of this weather.”

Henry reluctantly agreed, and they set off. After a couple of minutes, the storm hit in earnest, rain starting to pour down. Emma threw her jacket over Henry’s shoulders to keep some of the rain off him, suppressing a shiver at the sudden cold. They made their way up to the sixth grade common room, and Henry tried to convince her that he would be okay from there.

“No way kid. This kind of weather can be dangerous. How about you let me call your parents to see how far off they are?”

Henry looked slightly alarmed at this prospect, and Emma found herself getting suspicious. He tried insisting that there was nothing to worry about, but Emma was adamant.

“Where do your parents usually pick you up, kid?”

Henry hesitated, and then his eyes widened at the sight of something behind her. “Mom…” he half-whispered, looking for all the world like he’d been busted robbing a bank.

Emma’s suspicions that something was awry were confirmed in the worst possible way, as she turned and saw Regina standing in the doorway behind her. Emma looked at Henry in shock. “Wait, Regina’s your mom? How did I not know that?”

Regina snarled, “Both of you, come with me.”

Emma considered protesting, but thought better of it. She trailed after Regina, who was walking purposefully towards the music wing. Henry was walking alongside her, scuffing his shoes, looking absolutely miserable. They arrived at one of the music rooms, and Regina gestured to the door.

“Inside.”

Emma followed Henry through the door, wondering whether Regina had taken her to a more secluded part of the school in order to orchestrate her death with fewer witnesses. Emma became aware of the sound of a violin playing from within the room, and realised it was coming from a tape recorder in the far corner. There was a violin on a chair, and some sheet music open on a stand.

Regina ignored Emma for a moment and turned to Henry. “Henry, pack up your violin and go wait for me in my office. I’ll be talking to you later.”

He did as he was told, looking sullen. He looked back and forth between the two women, noting the tension. “Mom, this isn’t Miss Swan’s fault. She didn’t know anything about this.”

Emma idly noted that Regina was looking somewhat less than her usual immaculate self, her suit rumpled, and her hair starting to frizz a little from the rain. Despite that, she still managed to appear both ridiculously attractive and absolutely terrifying.

“Out. I don’t want to hear another word from you right now, Henry.” He clearly knew when it was best to beat a strategic retreat, hurrying out of the music room and down the hall.

Regina stood there, watching Henry’s retreating figure, before turning her attention to Emma. Emma shuddered a little, feeling singed by the heat in Regina’s glare, before summoning up the courage to speak.

“Regina. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m sure we can get it straightened out.”

Emma suddenly found herself backpedalling hastily as Regina advanced on her. “Miss Swan, what were you doing with my son?”

Emma had never actually heard Regina raise her voice before, and she realised then that their previous encounters really hadn’t been as unpleasant as she’d thought at the time. Although Regina had typically been scathing, there’d been more of a sardonic bite to her words and her tone. Now though, Regina was almost incandescent with rage. With only a couple of steps, Emma felt her back hit the wall of the small music room, and she wondered if Regina might actually throw a punch, noting the hands clenching and unclenching by Regina’s side.

“Miss Swan. I’ll ask again. What. Were. You. Doing. With. My. Son?” Regina’s tone was suddenly low and dangerous, each word punctuated with a prod to her chest. Emma gulped as she was pushed more firmly against the wall, Regina’s hands on her shoulders, stepping further into her personal space. Her breath was hot and quick against Emma’s face, and Emma found herself focusing on a mouth curled into an angry snarl, on the scar anointing the top lip. On the chest, heaving with rage, confined by a blouse with just enough buttons done up, as usual, the top one threatening to burst open. On the hands that could just as easily slide around to grasp her throat. Anything but on the eyes threatening to melt holes in her.

Finally, Emma looked up. When she spoke, her voice was calm, aiming to soothe. “Regina, there’s nothing to worry about. We were just down at track training.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed. “How dare you. Henry was supposed to be practising the violin, but instead you’ve got him sneaking around behind my back.”

Emma shook her head. “Look Regina, I didn’t know. He told me that he was allowed to attend. I didn’t even know he was your kid - if I’d known, I would have talked to you about it, made sure it was okay.”

Emma wasn’t sure, but it felt like there was something more going on under the surface. She brought her hands up to Regina’s shoulders, clasping them gently. “Hey, seriously it’s okay. Henry’s okay. You know, he’s actually really talented. Maybe we can discuss this tomorrow – you probably need to get Henry home.”

Regina seemed to remember herself finally, stepping back, the usual mask descending.

“Thank you Miss Swan, but Henry will not be joining the track team.” With that, Regina turned and stalked out of the room.

Emma sank down the wall, taking a moment to get her heart rate under control. That had been intense, and she wasn’t really looking forward to going another round with Regina tomorrow. She sighed. Storybrooke was supposed to be quiet, uncomplicated, a safe place for her to figure things out. It was shaping up to be anything but.

*****

The next day, she went looking for Henry. He wasn’t sitting with any of the middle school groups at lunch, so she traipsed down to the groundsman’s shed. Sure enough, Henry was hiding out down there again.

She sat down beside him. “Hey kid.”

He looked a little sheepish. “Hey Miss Swan. Are you mad at me?”

She sighed. “Kid, this is a pretty awkward situation. Do you want to tell me exactly what’s going on?”

Henry fidgeted, pulling out blades of grass.

Emma watched him, waiting for him to speak. When he didn’t start, she touched him lightly on the shoulder. “Kid, Graham mows these lawns. He doesn’t need you to do it by hand.”

Henry looked at her beseechingly. “Promise you won’t get mad at me?”

“I’ll do my best, but I really need to know what’s going on so I can straighten things out with your Mom.”

He sighed. “I take violin lessons, which is why I can’t make Friday afternoons. But on the other afternoons, I’m supposed to practise in the music room, while I wait for Mom to finish up at work. She got me a key so that I could get in and out after hours, and also so that I could practise undisturbed, because I used to get bothered by people coming in sometimes. I really wanted to join the track team after you invited me, but Mom definitely would have said no, so I staged it so that it seemed like I was in the room practising. I recorded a few sessions and set them to play back while I was down at the track, just in case Mom walked by to check on me. I also set up a sensor so that I’d get an alert on my phone when someone stayed outside the room for more than five seconds. That’s why I left early a couple of times.”

Emma couldn’t believe the elaborate plan that Henry had concocted just to join the track team. “Oh, Henry. Seriously, why didn’t you just talk to me about it? I could have talked to your Mom, tried to work something out.”

Henry sighed again. “It’s pointless. She would never have let me. I’m supposed to practise the violin pretty much every waking hour. She wants me to audition for the state youth orchestra in a couple of years time. It sucks – I don’t even really like playing the violin. I really like running – I don’t want to give it up.”

“Henry. I’m sure your Mom is just doing what she thinks is best for you. Sneaking around behind her back like that isn’t the right thing to do, no matter how you feel about violin lessons. There are better ways to approach things. I need you to understand that. And if she says no more track, we’re just going to have to work with that for the time being. Doesn’t mean you can’t run though.”

He nodded reluctantly, sighing. “I’m pretty much grounded until I’m 30.”

Emma decided that now was the time to try to broach another, more serious subject. “Henry, you know that I’ve got your back, that you can trust me to look out for you.”

He nodded. “Of course, Miss Swan.”

She pressed on. “A few weeks ago, those kids chasing you. I know they were trying to hurt you. Was that the first time something like that has happened, or have you had other problems?”

Henry resumed his vigorous trimming of the lawn, not meeting her eyes.

“Henry, if you’re having any problems with the other kids, I want to be able to protect you. I promise you, that’s all I want.”

He shook his head, still looking at the grass that he was ripping up.

“Kid. I get it. You don’t want anyone to think you’re a tattle-tale. We have a thing or two in common, Henry, and I know how much pressure there is not to say anything. But eventually, you might wind up getting hurt pretty badly.”

Henry remained stubbornly silent.

Emma sighed. “Okay, I’m going to say something, and you can nod if you feel like it. You don’t have to say anything – it’ll be me talking, not you.”

Henry looked up at her and nodded once.

“Okay, so those kids chasing you down have given you problems before.”

Henry nodded slightly.

“Okay, so maybe they don’t like that you play the violin, maybe they think that makes you an easy target.”

Henry shook his head.

“No, okay, maybe they don’t like that your Mom is a teacher.”

Henry nodded.

“They told you that things would be really bad if you told anyone. They’d hurt you, cause some serious trouble maybe?”

His face crumpled. “They were angry because my Mom got one of the boys from the football team suspended from the program last year because he was failing English. He didn’t manage to get back into the team last year, and this year he missed out on a starting spot. So his younger brother and some of his friends started to target me. They said they had a way of hurting my Mom if I said anything about it.”

Emma put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey kid. Listen, it’s going to be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

*****

Later that day, Emma was sitting in her office working on lesson plans, and trying not to think about the prospect of another conversation with Regina. She threw down her pen, leaning back in her chair and running her fingers through messy blonde curls, groaning in frustration. She knew she couldn’t put off the conversation much longer, but she was genuinely dreading it.

She was startled by a knock at her door. Regina was leaning against the doorframe, holding her jacket.

“Miss Swan. I believe this belongs to you. Thank you for lending it to Henry.”

Emma tried not to show her surprise at the small, but genuine smile that Regina directed at her. “Hi Regina. Come in and sit down.”

Regina took a seat across from her, laying the jacket on the desk. “Miss Swan. I owe you an apology. I over-reacted yesterday. I want you to know that I don’t usually lose my cool like that.”

Emma smirked a little. “I hope not. Otherwise none of Henry’s teachers will survive to retirement age.”

Regina looked exasperated. “Miss Swan. I don’t apologise often. I suggest that you appreciate this moment, because it’s unlikely to happen again.”

Emma held up her hands in a conciliatory fashion, gesturing for Regina to continue.

“Henry explained to me that you had absolutely nothing to do with this – that he actively concealed his scheme from you. I want you to understand though that Henry needs to focus on his schoolwork and on his music. He doesn’t need other distractions.”

Emma pressed her fingers against her eyelids, willing the sudden throbbing in her head to stop. She hated having these kinds of conversations, but she owed it to Henry to do her best for him.

“Regina. I think you should reconsider letting him do track. It doesn’t need to be a big deal – he only needs to do a couple of sessions a week, and a little bit of work on the weekends on his own time. He’s really quite talented, and I know he enjoys it. I think he really needs something like that – it’ll be good for him.”

Regina bristled at this. “How dare you tell me what’s best for my son. Who do you think you are?”

“Look Regina. I really don’t want to interfere, but I have an obligation to do what’s best for my students. Henry hasn’t been telling you everything – he’s been having some problems with some of the kids at school, and he’s pretty isolated. Since he joined the track team, I’ve noticed he’s started coming out of his shell a bit – surely you’ve noticed it too.”

Regina looked a little defeated. “Henry would have told me if he was having problems. He knows he can tell me anything.”

Emma found herself sympathising with Regina. Suddenly she wasn’t the Evil Queen that she’d been built up to be in Emma’s head. Instead, she was just a mother trying to do the best for her son. The vulnerability was unexpected, and Emma found herself actually warming to Regina a little.

Emma put a hand over Regina’s, trying to offer some comfort. “He was just trying to protect you. I think he worries about you as much as you do about him.”

For a moment, Regina accepted the comfort, before snatching her hand away. “Miss Swan, I want you to tell me the names of the children who have been harming my son.”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t know enough of the details yet. I think you should talk to Henry about it, and meanwhile I’ll keep an eye out for any trouble.”

“Miss Swan, I want you to understand that I, and only I, will decide what is an appropriate course of action for anything that concerns my son.” She walked out of the office, the staccato click of her heels audible for a few seconds as she made her way down the hall.

Emma sighed. That went well…

*****

Emma was frustrated. Without her best junior middle distance prospect, she’d have to reconsider some of the details of her plans for the Mighty Ducks as she’d taken to calling the team in her head. The first meet was coming up in two weeks time, and she would need to figure out who could possibly replace Henry in his events. The senior roster was starting to look a little less thin, particularly in the sprinting ranks, after her new scholarship student had arrived, and David had relented and allowed her to sign up a couple of his footballers.

A couple of days after the showdown with Regina, Emma set the team a tough session designed to get the middle distance runners to work on their speed, and the sprinters to work on their endurance. She’d hated these sessions herself when she’d been at school, but she knew the benefit they brought on race day. She’d just sent the team for their second 150 when she looked up and spotted Regina and Henry walking down to the track.

She jogged over to them, starting to speak, but Regina cut her off.

“Miss Swan, I have recently been reminded of the link between a healthy body and a healthy mind. Henry spends far too much time cooped up inside, when a boy of his age should be getting some exercise. Henry will be attending training two afternoons each week, as well as your Wednesday lunch time session. I expect you to keep me updated with his progress.”

Emma was pretty sure that her eyes bugged out with surprise. She really hadn’t expected Regina to back down. Henry was grinning at her, looking just about as happy as she’d ever seen him.

“Of course Regina. Henry, glad to have you back on the team kid. We’ve missed you.”

“He has a music lesson this afternoon, but he’ll be at training on Monday.”

Emma stared after them as they walked away, shaking her head incredulously. Just when she thought she had Regina all figured out…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the support - it's helping to keep me motivated. :)
> 
> There's a bit more Regina in this chapter, and things are starting to progress slowly but surely between the two of them.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter.

It was almost halfway through the first semester, and the track team had had two practice meets, with the first official meet due for the weekend. Emma was encouraged by the results so far – although none of her kids had won their races, they’d all shown significant improvement from the start of the season. A couple of the footballers had managed top three finishes in sprint events, and Henry had managed a third place in the one-mile event for his age group.

Emma was busy planning for the upcoming competition when she heard a knock on her office door. She’d looked up to see Felix, one of the middle schoolers on the team, clutching a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, looking distressed.

“Hey Felix. What can I do for you?”

“Hi Coach. I, uh, I can’t run at the meet this Saturday.” His face had crumpled.

Emma cursed to herself. Felix was a new student at the school this year, and one of her best talents. He’d clearly had a good coach in the past, and she couldn’t afford to lose him.

“What’s going on, Felix? Is it something I can help with?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Coach. I’ve got a detention.”

Emma sighed. “Maybe we can negotiate with your teacher and get it set for another day. Who gave it to you?”

“It’s hopeless. It was Miss Mills. The guys on the team said she never backs down.”

Great. Another chance to butt heads with Regina. “Listen. I’m going to talk to Miss Mills and see if we can come to some sort of agreement. I’m sure she’ll see reason when I explain the circumstances.”

He nodded, but seemed unconvinced. “Okay Coach. But Miss Mills, she’s got it out for me real bad.”

“What happened to upset her?” Emma wanted to make sure she had both sides of the story when she was talking to Regina.

“It was just a boring lesson, Coach. I was talking to my friends and stuff. And…” He scuffed his feet a little, staring at the floor. “I didn’t do some of my homework assignments.”

Emma sighed. “Okay Felix. I’ll see what I can do. Now, off you go – shouldn’t you be in class?”

He’d nodded a little sheepishly and run off.

*****

Emma went looking for Regina later that day, finding her in her office.

Another one of her team had pulled out of the meet for the weekend after hurting an ankle skateboarding. She really couldn’t afford to lose another team member.

She walked in without knocking, annoyed about the situation, and impatient to get things resolved. “Regina, why is Felix going to be unavailable to me this weekend?”

Regina had looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. “Why hello, Miss Swan. Please, why don’t you come in?”

Emma bristled at the obvious sarcasm in Regina’s tone, before ordering herself to calm down. It was too easy to get into a slanging match with Regina – she needed to be mature about things.

“Regina, I’m concerned that you’ve given Felix Boyd a detention this weekend. It happens to be the first official meet of the athletics season and he’s one of my key team members.”

“Miss Swan. I don’t know how things worked at your old school, but I don’t do favours. I certainly don’t give athletes special treatment. Everything I do is fair and equitable.”

Emma crossed her arms. “Regina, it’s not fair that he’s going to miss out on this event. It’s really important to him and to his team.”

“Miss Swan. I will repeat myself. I don’t give athletes special treatment. Some schools might let their athletes get away with poor behaviour and sub-standard academic performance, but I don’t subscribe to that philosophy. I’m here to teach, and they are supposed to be here to learn. If they find it too difficult to balance sport with schoolwork, then they need to refocus their priorities and concentrate on their schoolwork.”

Emma sighed. “I’m not asking you to give him special treatment. I was just hoping that you could schedule his detention for a different time. What’d he do, anyway?”

“He’s skipped a couple of classes. And when he does show up to class, he’s disruptive, and he generally hasn’t done his homework. He’s actually on track to fail my class.”

“Okay, so that’s a little more serious than he made it out to be.”

Regina pursed her lips. “It doesn’t surprise me in the least that he’d misrepresent the situation.”

Emma massaged her temples, suddenly feeling a lot more stressed about the situation. If he was on the verge of failing, she’d lose him for a lot more than just one meet. “Okay, so he’s disruptive, he skips your classes, and he doesn’t do his homework. This doesn’t sound a lot like the Felix I know. He pays attention, he’s always on time to training and to gym class, and he works his butt off every session. He also struck me as being fairly bright.”

“Miss Swan, it sounds like you and I know two very different Felixes.”

Emma mused out loud. “You know, there was this one time I set the kids on the team some reading to do. I know, homework for track, sounds weird, doesn’t it? Anyway, Felix didn’t do it, and he still didn’t do it after I set a punishment for the kids who were being slack. It’s the only time that Felix has ever failed to do something that I’ve asked him to – he loves track and he absolutely throws himself into it.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “That’s very interesting, Miss Swan. Is there a point to this little story?”

“Look Regina. I know I’m just a gym teacher, and that my professional opinion really doesn’t count in this situation, but this all makes me think that maybe there’s a little bit more to it than Felix being a disruptive little shit. Maybe he’s having some difficulties with reading or writing. I don’t know. I knew this kid once who misbehaved horribly in class, and it turns out that he needed glasses. He couldn’t read stuff in class, so he got bored and made trouble instead. Maybe something like that.”

Regina sighed. “Miss Swan, perversely, what you are saying actually makes some sense. Felix is new to Storybrooke, so I don’t really have any historical behaviour to compare with, and he may have come from a school without the diagnostic resources to assess his behaviour. It is possible that he is having difficulties beyond just simple motivational ones. I’ll talk to some of his other teachers and see whether there are any patterns of behaviour, and we can determine whether he needs any specialised testing.”

“So does that mean you’ll reschedule his detention?” Emma decided that now was a good opportunity to push her luck.

“I’ll think about it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some papers to grade.”

Emma grinned. Not quite a victory, but close enough. She walked out of the office, almost running into Sidney Glass who was loitering outside, clearly waiting to see Regina.

*****

Emma was a nervous bundle of energy. It was the morning of the first meet of the season, and she’d barely slept a wink all night as she’d run through all sorts of scenarios in her head. It was the moment of truth – today she would find out whether all the hard work she and the kids had put in would start to pay dividends. In training, she had cautioned them not to expect too much – they were at least a month behind a lot of the other schools in their preparations. However, after the way they’d performed at the warm-up meets, she was cautiously optimistic that there might be a few good results to celebrate at the end of the day.

Regina had surprised her by agreeing to reschedule Felix’s detention, however she’d warned Emma that this was an unusual case, and she shouldn’t expect concessions in the future. Emma had been ecstatic, threatening to hug Regina, who had looked at her as if she was some sort of alien species she’d never encountered before.

The first event was due to start in a half hour, and Emma was dashing around like an expectant father. She’d already talked the athletes through the warm ups they needed to perform before their races, and when they should start, and now she was running around making sure that everyone was well-hydrated and was keeping out of the sun.

David had come down to help out, and he grabbed her as she ran past. “Hey, Swan. Take a breather – you’re making me dizzy the way you’re running around in circles, and you’re going to wear yourself out before the first race is run.”

She glared at him for a moment, before realising he was right. She grabbed an energy bar and a drink from the team supply, taking a moment to refuel, before organising the first few athletes for their events. The sprinters were up first, with heats for each of the distances, with the finals for each age group to be run later in the afternoon. She took the first batch over to the start line, giving them a last-minute pep-talk, and reminding them of the rules around breaking at the start.

She didn’t have any brilliant sprinters among the lower age groups, but a couple of older kids who were in David’s football program were quite talented over shorter distances, and were already in good condition at this stage of the season. She expected them to make the finals and to challenge for podium spots. She was pleasantly surprised to see three of the younger kids also make it to the finals, although their times were at this point unlikely to offer a serious challenge to the front-runners.

The one-mile was up next, and Henry was starting in the youngest age group. She was eager to see how he’d progressed – at the last practice meet, he’d run just under 5:30, a significant improvement on his time at the start of the season. She’d been working on developing a race plan with him, and she was hoping he might be able to shave a couple more seconds off his time, and challenge for a podium spot against better opposition than he’d come up against in the practice meets.

She sent him to the start line with the runners from the other age groups, and moved to get a good position near the finish.

The starter gun went off, and he kept the pace around the first bend, falling into an easy rhythm. His arms had improved considerably – his shoulders were relaxed, hands loosely cupped, arms swinging easily. The early pace was relatively quick, and Emma was pleased to see that Henry was keeping up easily without too much apparent stress. After the first lap, a couple of the slower runners started to drop off the main pack, although most of the competitors were still bunched up.

At the halfway mark, the lead group was down to eight, with Henry still hanging in there. He looked good, but so did a couple of the other kids. Emma cursed, as one of the runners moved up on Henry’s outside, effectively boxing him in. With his positioning, he was going to have to rely on one of the other kids making an early move and splitting the group. It didn’t look like it was going to happen – the two race leaders were team-mates, and appeared to be keeping the race under control together for the time being.

Heading into the final lap, a couple of the main pack finally dropped off, giving Henry some additional wiggle room. When one of the other runners kicked with three hundred yards to go, Henry managed to get onto his tail, along with one other runner. Emma bit her nails nervously. That was still a decent distance to go – she hoped Henry had the legs to keep up the pace.

A hundred yards out from the finish line, the race leader had managed to build a five yard advantage over Henry, while the other contender had dropped off the pace, clearly spent. With fifty yards to go, the advantage was more like eight yards. Emma narrowed her eyes – the race leader’s head had started to jerk around, a clear sign that fatigue was setting in. She muttered to herself, “Come on, Henry, you’ve run a near perfect race. Now you just need to take this opportunity.”

Henry started to close down the gap, and Emma prayed to any deity who might care to listen that he hadn’t left his run too late. He was getting closer, and closer, and... Dead heat! She was sure of it. She ran over to the edge of the track, where Henry was struggling to stand. She put an arm around him, as much to support him physically as to congratulate him.

“Nice work kid. That was pretty close to a perfect race, and you just shaved six seconds off your PB.”

Henry tried to respond, but he still hadn’t caught his breath. He was looking around the stands, and he suddenly threw up a hand and started waving. He managed to gasp out, “My Mom. She came. I didn’t think she would.”

Emma followed Henry’s line of sight, and sure enough, Regina was in the stands. Emma smiled and gave her a wave too, and started to shepherd Henry over in Regina’s direction. Regina was smiling with pure, unadulterated joy, and Emma suddenly found herself almost as breathless as Henry. It was like she was seeing Regina with fresh eyes, and all she could see in that moment was how overwhelmingly beautiful Regina was.

Emma shook herself mentally. She clapped Henry on the shoulder and gave him a little shove. “Go on, kid. Walk it off for a bit longer and then go see your Mom for a few minutes. Then come back and hang out with the team.”

She made her way back to the finish line in time to watch the next race start. She tried to concentrate on kids running, pushing aside the images of Regina that kept worming their way into her brain. She would not think about those deep brown eyes suddenly suffused with warmth and light. She would absolutely not think about full lips parting in a genuine smile rather than their usual sardonic smirk.

The rest of the meet passed as a bit of a blur. Her kids had done her proud though. Along with Henry’s tied first place, the senior 4x100 relay team, which included a couple of the footballers, had also managed a first place. There were three second places, and six third places. In addition to that, most of the kids had managed to achieve a PB during the meet. They still finished second from last on the overall league table for the day, but for the first time, Emma really believed that she might be able to build something out of this team. David shook her hand at the end of the day, congratulating her heartily, and she allowed a little pride to creep in. In one meet, they’d already achieved better results than they had in the last two seasons.

*****

Later that evening, Emma went to Granny’s in search of dinner. She was too spent to even consider cooking any of the three vaguely nutritious dishes she knew how to cook, and she’d exhausted her supply of instant noodles. Emma looked around for a spare table, figuring that she’d just grab something to go if there wasn’t one available. As she scanned the diner, she noticed Regina and Henry at a booth in the corner. Henry had clearly seen her come in, because he stood up and waved at her to come over. Emma grinned as she noticed Regina telling him off – she wasn’t the only one who copped it from Regina.

Regina turned to look at her across the diner, rolling her eyes in amused exasperation. Emma mouthed that it was okay, but Regina shook her head and waved her over. Emma made her way over, and stood awkwardly by their table.

Henry grinned up at her, mouth rimmed with chocolate. “Miss Swan! You should try the hot chocolate here. It’s awesome – Granny puts cinnamon in it.”

“Cinnamon, huh? I might just have to try that, although maybe not right now – I haven’t had dinner yet.” Henry’s enthusiasm brought a gentle smile to her face. She really was fond of the kid. She glanced over at Regina, who was regarding her contemplatively.

“You haven’t had dinner yet, Miss Swan? But you must be really hungry – I know I would be.” Henry had a light-bulb moment. “Hey Miss Swan, you should sit down and have dinner with us.”

She started to refuse, not wanting to make Regina uncomfortable. “Henry, I’m sure your Mom wants to spend some time with you, celebrate your successful day.” She trailed off as Henry’s face expression transformed from excitement to disappointment.

Emma was surprised when Regina spoke. Her voice was softer somehow, lacking its usual sardonic edge. “Dear, please sit down. You’re giving me a crick in the neck, and you look like you’re about to drop dead of exhaustion.” She paused and gave Henry a look. “Henry, scoot over and give Miss Swan some room to sit down.”

Emma slid onto the bench seat next to Henry, realising as she sat down just how bone-tired she really was. At this rate, she’d probably pass out and face-plant into her dinner. She smiled gratefully at Regina.

“You know, Regina, you’ve got a pretty talented kid. I was so proud of him today. He’s put in so much hard work and it’s really starting to pay off.”

Regina smiled at her, the kind of warm, open smile that evoked memories of earlier in the day, and Emma realised that even if they weren’t quite friends yet, there was something there, an understanding that hadn’t been present when they’d first met.

“You and my son seem to be members of a mutual admiration society. He was telling me just before you arrived that you’re his favourite teacher at school. I have to admit, I’m starting to wonder if I should be a little jealous.” The tone was light, but Emma sensed the potential for a more serious undertone.

Henry squirmed next to her. “Mo-om. You’re being embarrassing.”

Emma and Regina both looked at each other and laughed.

Emma ruffled Henry’s hair. “You know, kid. Sometimes I forget you’re only eleven years old, and then you say something like that and I’m reminded of that fact.”

Emma’s stomach rumbled noisily, reminding of her reason for being in the diner. She looked down at her menu, the prospect of making a decision suddenly daunting to her exhausted brain. She looked over at Regina for help.

“I usually only come here for my daily sugar fix in the morning. What’s good for dinner?”

“I like the lasagne. It’s not as good as mine, but sometimes it’s nice to have someone else cook for you.”

Regina sounded a little wistful, and Emma wondered not for the first time, what Regina’s story was.

A waitress finally made her way over to take her order, and once she was dispatched, they fell back to small talk, mostly listening to Henry babble about his classes and the track team and a video game he was in the middle of playing.

When Emma’s meal had arrived, she attacked it with gusto, barely pausing for breath as she ate.

Regina smirked at her. “Were you raised in a barn, dear?”

Emma stopped shovelling food into her mouth for a moment in order to respond. “Well, there was that one foster family who had me sleep in the stables for 3 months when they ran out of room at the main house. So I suppose you could say that I was.”

Regina looked genuinely shocked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to pry into your childhood.”

Emma shrugged, momentarily relishing the experience of turning the tables on Regina. “Honestly, that was actually one of the better families I stayed with. They were pretty genuine about wanting to help kids in difficult situations, but they were kind of like those people who go to animal shelters and keep on collecting rescues because they want to save every one. It can wind up pretty messy eventually.”

Emma finished her dinner in very short order, and Henry had finished his hot chocolate some time ago. His attempts to persuade his mother that a second one would be a good idea were in vain, so they settled their bill and walked out of the diner together.

Emma walked Henry and Regina back to their car – Regina offered her a ride home, but she’d decided that the short walk home would do her good. Regina made sure Henry was buckled in, before turning back to Emma.

“Miss Swan, I just wanted to apologise again for what I said… I”

Emma cut her off. “Regina, seriously, it’s okay. You didn’t know. My childhood wasn’t a rosy, happy fairy story, but it also wasn’t anywhere near as awful as it could have been. I’m standing here before you today as proof that it wasn’t all bad.”

She placed a hand on Regina’s arm, a brief touch meant to reassure. They stood there like that for a moment, Emma suddenly experiencing a heightened sense of awareness. The bare skin beneath her hand was warm, smooth, and she had to clamp down on the impulse to run her hand down Regina’s arm. Regina’s lips were slightly parted and Emma wondered if they were as soft as they looked, wondered what they would feel like under her fingertips. Regina’s eyes, normally fierce, had softened in a way that Emma had never seen before, a hint of vulnerability suddenly making her seem approachable. Those eyes – Emma felt like she could spend days gazing into them and it wouldn’t be enough.

Then Emma remembered herself. No, this absolutely could not be happening. No. When had she gone from wanting to slap Regina to this, whatever this was?

Emma withdrew her hand. “You should get Henry home – he’s going to need a huge sleep to recover from today. So am I for that matter.”

Regina nodded. “Are you sure I can’t give you a ride home? It’s really no trouble.”

Emma shook her head, definitely feeling the need for some thinking space. “No, it’s a nice night for a walk. Thank you though. I’ll see you next week.”

After Regina drove off, Emma had all but run home. She collapsed into bed, certain that she would have trouble sleeping. Fortunately, the adrenaline had mostly worn off, and she was asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma didn’t know why she’d agreed to it. Damn Mary Margaret and those big doe eyes. She stabbed a piece of cucumber, wishing it was her date’s hand. The hand that was currently trying to creep north of her knee and under her skirt. That hand belonged to Victor Whale, one of the town’s doctors and, in Emma’s opinion, least eligible bachelors. He’d tried to convince her to have dinner with him at a fancy French place out of town on Friday night, but she’d countered with dinner at Granny’s on Monday night, wanting to get the probable ordeal out of the way as quickly as possible. She figured she could use the school teacher early start thing as an excuse to terminate the date if it was going badly.

She’d had coffee with Mary Margaret yesterday, the day after the track meet, looking for any possible avenue to distract herself after her sort-of epiphany yesterday. Back in Boston, she would have gone out looking for a warm body to forget her troubles for a night, scratch whatever itch needed scratching. Unfortunately, small-town Maine was not exactly the ideal place to go looking for a guy or a girl to while away an evening pleasurably, and sneak out before breakfast. Not if she didn’t want her walk of shame to be the main topic of conversation at Granny’s for the next month.

Even if she had been willing to risk becoming gossip fodder, the list of possible candidates was extremely short – read, non-existent. She’d been down to the Rabbit Hole on a Saturday night to check out Storybrooke’s late night scene, and it had felt like she’d boarded the voyage of the damned. The music was firmly nestled in the realm of 80s soft rock and easy listening. Leroy, her predecessor, had tried to start a bar fight with pretty much everyone, including her. A vertically-challenged guy whose friends all called him Happy had told her she looked like a lesbian, and tried to give her a card for a support group that could help with that. Pretty much every lonely heart weirdo in Storybrooke was there looking for their true love. All in all, it had made her want to drink herself silly.

She’d swiftly come to the conclusion that Storybrooke was the kind of place where old-fashioned romance was a thing. People got introduced at barbecues, or set up at dinner parties by their coupled friends. Or, in her case, set up on blind dates with their friend’s husband’s golf buddy. She got the distinct feeling that Mary Margaret felt that everyone should have some sort of epic saccharine Disneyfied love story like she and David did. Mary Margaret seemed to have set her up with Victor out of some misguided sense that she might be having trouble meeting new people (and potential romantic partners) in Storybrooke.

Emma tried to focus on what Victor was saying, while at the same time attempting to firmly repel any further incursion of his hands.

“You know, I thought about doing my fellowship in plastic surgery, but I wanted to work in an area where I could really do the most to help people.”

Yeah, right, Emma thought. More like he applied and didn’t make the cut for plastics. She was half-listening to the monologue that was passing for conversation, making the appropriate noises at the appropriate times, and wishing she was anywhere but here.

“I do have quite an eye for symmetry. You have wonderfully symmetrical features, almost perfect really, although your nose could possibly be improved.”

Emma sighed. Seriously, this guy was trying to use pick-up artist BS on her. And a mediocre attempt at negging, at that. She was from Boston – she’d laughed guys with twice as much front as Whale out of town.

She implored the universe to work some kind of miracle to help her escape. Maybe a medical emergency that he’d be called away on, a fire alarm, an armed robbery, anything. She was ready to slip away to the bathroom for a moment and call in a bomb threat herself. Ruby, who was covering a shift at the diner, kept smirking at her from her station, Emma staring daggers back at her when Victor wasn’t looking.

She finished her salad – the salad that Victor had ordered for her – and when he tried to order dessert and coffee, she made a big show of looking at her watch.

“Oh my, look at how the time has flown by. I’ve got an early softball practice to run tomorrow morning - I think it’s about time I headed home.”

Victor tried in vain to convince her to stay a little longer. She cut down every attempt, so he settled the bill and they walked outside together.

He took her hand. “Emma, I feel like we have such a great connection. When can I see you again?”

Emma stopped herself from slapping him, reminding herself that this was one of Mary Margaret’s friends.

He leaned in, attempting a goodnight kiss, and she turned her head at the last moment so that his lips had grazed her cheek instead.

Emma sighed. “Victor, I just don’t think this will work. We really don’t have anything in common.”

His face fell, and he tried to convince her to give him another shot.

“Good night Victor. Thanks for dinner.”

She turned down his offers to give her a ride home and walked off into the night, kicking herself for wearing heels when she knew there was an above average chance that she would be making a hasty exit. This was going to be a long, uncomfortable walk home, but even a short ride home with Victor had promised to be more uncomfortable. Sitting in cars after dates had an unfortunate way of giving people bad ideas, and she wanted to avoid any possibility of having to fend off any more of Victor’s clumsy advances.

She made it a little way down the street before she ran into Henry and Regina coming out of the ice cream shop. Just who she didn’t want to see. She was starting to regret not accepting that ride home.

Henry called out excitedly, dragging his mother over towards her. “Miss Swan! Miss Swan! Hi!”

Regina quirked an eyebrow at her. “Miss Swan, I didn’t think that your wardrobe contained anything other than sportswear, wife-beaters and jeans.” There was a strange smile playing about Regina’s lips as she regarded Emma.

Emma fidgeted under Regina’s gaze. “I’ll have you know that I also happen to have a totally kick-ass leather jacket. It’s a bit much for school though, so it only comes out at night.” She’d been planning to wear that jacket tonight, along with jeans and a singlet, not really planning to dress up. However, Mary Margaret had invaded her house and gone through her wardrobe, treating her like her very own paper doll. The result: a skirt and heels that she’d bought to attend a colleague’s wedding back in Boston.

Regina laughed throatily, the kind of laugh that spoke of wicked, hedonistic things, and Emma had felt a blush rise up her chest. Ugh. She felt like some sort of simpering school-girl. This was absolutely not allowed to happen – Emma Swan wasn’t the kind of woman who let stupid little school-girl infatuations complicate her life. Particularly not infatuations with dangerously attractive, probably straight colleagues who kept her constantly off-balance.

Regina offered her a lift home, and the pinch of heels on feet used to running shoes was enough to make her accept this time, despite the possible risk to her sanity. Besides, Henry would be there, so absolutely nothing could happen. The short drive to her house was mostly silent, Henry having passed out in the backseat. Emma settled back into her seat and watched Regina drive, wondering how such a boring, everyday action could be suddenly rendered sexy. She idly watched the play of muscles in Regina’s forearm as she shifted gears, the elegant fingers casually holding the steering wheel, the slender column of her throat as she turned to check for traffic.

“So what, or should I say who, inspired you to give the jeans a rest for the night?” Regina turned to look at her for a moment as they stopped at Storybrooke’s only traffic light.

Emma sighed. “Just some stupid set-up. Mary Margaret thought that Victor Whale and I might hit it off.”

Regina smirked. “I can only assume that based on the current time, and your lack of an escort, that the evening was not a success. I’m not surprised – Victor isn’t exactly the most thrilling company.”

“Yeah. Honestly, I wasn’t really going into it with any kind of hopes of success. I really only went because Mary Margaret would have looked at me like I killed her puppy if I refused.”

All too soon, and yet not soon enough, Regina pulled up in front of her house. Five minutes in a car with Regina had felt like it held more potential than a whole evening with Victor. Her not-so-cunning plan to distract herself was backfiring in the most spectacular way. Emma unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to Regina.

“Thanks for the ride home.”

Regina smiled softly at her, and Emma was reminded of her theory that riding in cars frequently led to awkward situations. Right now, some reptilian part of her brain was throwing up ideas about how easy it would be to lean forward and press her lips to Regina’s. The sensible part of her brain was urgently fighting a rear-guard action and winning. Just.

She opened the door before she could do anything foolish, slipping out into the cool night time air. She leaned back in to the car, saying a quick good night to Regina, and gently closing the door. She watched as Regina drove off, before unlocking her front door. She kicked off her shoes as soon as she walked in, walking down the hall to her bathroom, stripping off as she went.

After a quick shower, she collapsed into bed, hugging a pillow and staring at the ceiling. She was so utterly screwed.

*****

The next morning Emma walked into the staff room and found Ruby lying in wait for her. Ruby grabbed her and dragged her down the hall to an empty classroom, closing the door behind them. Emma waited for the inevitable teasing about the date with Victor and was surprised when it didn’t come. Instead, Ruby produced a copy of the student newspaper produced by the journalism club.

Ruby’s expression was serious. “Emma. Have you seen this yet?”

“The Mirror? No. Why would I read the student newspaper?” Emma was puzzled.

Ruby handed the paper over to Emma. “Read the front page.”

Emma started reading, a deep frown developing as she digested the contents of the article. She looked at Ruby, not sure how to respond.

“This is likely to get messy. You’re going to have to figure out how to deal with this. I’ll listen out for the scuttlebutt and keep you up to date.”

“Who reads this paper?”

“Pretty much everyone, including faculty. And they’ll start getting their hands on copies in the next couple of hours. I only have this copy because I usually make a point to steal one off the printer before they go into circulation.”

Emma was still frowning. “Can I take this copy?”

“Of course. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Ruby left her to go to her usual morning meeting with the Headmistress, while Emma continued to stew. She could feel the anger building, and she walked out without any clear idea of where she was going. A couple of minutes later, she realised she was standing outside Regina’s office.

She opened the door without knocking, startling Regina, who was sitting at her desk eating a pastry. Any other time, Emma would have teased Regina about not eating sugar, but this time she was on a mission.

Regina looked up at her questioningly. “Miss Swan?”

Emma felt her simmering rage reach a crescendo. She slapped the newspaper down onto the desk. “What the hell is this, Regina?”

Regina gaped at her for a moment, before collecting herself. “Miss Swan, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. What’s the matter?”

Emma thrust the paper across the desk. “This. Read it.”

Regina frowned at the newspaper, before reading under her breath. “Staff corruption: student athletes receiving favourable treatment. Allegations have emerged that a sports coach has been attempting to negotiate for academic concessions for athletes on their team. An anonymous source was privy to a discussion in which the coach attempted to have an athlete’s misconduct excused in order to allow them to compete. The source did not disclose which member or members of the faculty are involved in, but it is believed that the staff member may be unfamiliar with Storybrooke Academy’s strict code of conduct.”

“Regina, why the hell would you do this? I’ve worked so hard to develop a good reputation, and this could destroy my career.”

“Miss Swan, I assure you, this is the first that I’ve heard of this – I have absolutely nothing to do with this story.”

Emma was furious. “Bullshit, Regina. The Mirror is Sidney’s pet project, and everyone knows that Sidney is your creature. If you say jump, he says how high. He doesn’t do anything without your say-so.

“You’ve had it in for me since the day we met, and this is obviously your screwed up idea of revenge for some stupid accident months ago. You don’t have to like me personally, but at least show me some professional courtesy.”

Regina had remained unusually calm thus far, but she couldn’t just let this attack go. “How dare you? I haven’t done anything to you to deserve these accusations. Sidney is a free agent – he does as he pleases.”

Emma stormed out of the office, unwilling to listen to any of Regina’s lies. The fragile peace they’d established had been well and truly shattered. The last few days, the other side of Regina she’d seen – it must have all been part of a longer game. Emma couldn’t believe she’d been so thoroughly duped.

*****

Emma wasn't particularly surprised when the summons from Headmistress Lucas arrived. She made her way to the office, dreading what lay ahead, but determined to get it over with as quickly as possible. David was leaving the office as she walked in, and he paused briefly to place a supportive hand on her shoulder.

She gave him a watery smile and then walked in to the outer office. Ruby stopped her for a moment to give her a quick pep talk before waving her through. She squared her shoulders, and marched through the door. Headmistress Lucas had a grave expression on her face, and Emma recognised that hint of steel she’d seen when they first met coming to the fore.

“Miss Swan, please take a seat.”

Emma sat where the Headmistress indicated; this time there was no comfortable chat on the Chesterfield lounges. Instead, she was perched on a low, uncomfortable chair facing the Headmistress across her vast desk.

Emma started to speak, but the Headmistress shook her head.

“Miss Swan, before you say anything, I want to let you know that the allegations raised in the Mirror are a very serious matter. This school has a clear ethos of prioritising academic achievement ahead of achievements in other fields of endeavour. As such, the possibility that a member of the faculty could be attempting to subvert the academic process in any way is of grave concern to both me and the board. As a result, we will be investigating these allegations in full.”

Emma nodded. “Headmistress, I understand the seriousness of this situation, and I want to assure you that I consider the quality of education that my students receive to be the most important thing. I wouldn’t try to compromise that for any reason.”

“Miss Swan, we do not currently have any evidence to link particular faculty members to these allegations. Do you have any information you would like to volunteer to help us to investigate the situation?”

Emma contemplated the appropriate course of action. She could just hope that there wasn’t enough information to pursue the investigation, but chances were the rumours would continue to circulate, and she’d be tainted no matter what. She figured that the whole, unvarnished truth was probably the only approach open to her at this point.

“Headmistress, I’m aware that nobody has been named explicitly, but there are several details in the article that would seem to imply that I am the coach in question. I can say, hand on heart, that I have never tried to seek special favours for any of my athletes. What I suspect the article may be referring to is a conversation I had with a colleague, in which I discussed some concerns about a member of my track team. He had received a detention that ruled him out of a meet, and I wanted to understand what the story was behind that. We talked about some concerns that his behaviour may have been prompted by some learning difficulties, and I asked if his detention might be moved to another day. That is all.”

The Headmistress listened intently, her face impassive.

“Miss Swan, your version of events would seem to indicate that these allegations misrepresent any offence that may have taken place. However, we will still need to investigate to determine whether or not anything that is at odds with our code of conduct has occurred.”

“I understand, Headmistress.”

“Thank you, Miss Swan. You may go.”

Emma walked out of the office, despondent. Ruby gave her a sympathetic look as she walked past her desk and Emma trudged off to class. She taught all of her remaining classes for the day, wincing every time she overheard a whispered conversation, before heading home to a six-pack of beer, some instant noodles and some bad reality television.

The next morning, she had trouble forcing herself out of bed. She arrived at school, moping her way into the staff room, nursing an extra strong coffee and a bear claw. She was two bites into her pastry when Ruby had burst in to the staff room, dragging her down the hall in a repeat of yesterday’s performance.

“Emma, check this out!” Ruby excitedly waved what looked like a copy of The Mirror around in front of her nose.

Emma frowned. “Why are we here? Is this some complicated delusion where I think that I’m Bill Murray, and I’m doomed to repeat my day over and over. I really don’t want to see that article again.”

Ruby was bouncing with excitement. “This isn’t yesterday’s copy – it’s a new one. Read it.”

Emma sighed and took the paper that was thrust at her. Her eyebrows shot up as she read the contents of the front page. “A retraction? The anonymous source confessed to fabricating the story?”

Emma looked up at Ruby. “Does this mean I’m in the clear?”

Ruby nodded, smiling widely. A matching grin crept across Emma’s face, and she grabbed Ruby’s hands and started dancing like a madwoman.

She went off to classes with a spring in her step again. Later that day, the Headmistress summoned her to inform her that the investigation would no longer be proceeding. Emma desperately wanted to ask what had happened, but she didn’t want to jinx her good fortune.

The rest of the week passed uneventfully. She did wonder if Regina had had something to do with her reprieve, but after the way their last meeting had gone, she’d done everything she could to avoid her. The things she’d said would not be easy to move past, and she didn’t want to find out just how badly she might have damaged their fledgling relationship.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma and Ruby had quickly established a regular routine. On Wednesdays, after the lunch time track session, she and Ruby would catch up for lunch and a gossip session. None of the other teachers had a free period then, so they typically had the staff lounge to themselves. Ruby was progressively filling her in on the comings and goings of life in Storybrooke, the dramas, the rivalries and the romances.

Emma was starting to get the hang of the complicated network of relationships. “So Kathryn and Fred have a thing?”

“Yeah. They try to be sneaky about it, but it’s so obvious. He goes in to borrow whiteboard markers from her at least once a day. It’s cute, and it’s nice to see Kathryn happy for the first time since her divorce.

“How do you know that he’s not just looking for whiteboard markers? They do have a tendency not to work when you need one.” Emma had been teaching for long enough to know that no matter how many whiteboard markers there were in a room, it was odds on that all of them would be dried up. And if one of them did work, it was usually a permanent marker that some sneaky little bastard of a student had planted there.

Ruby laughed. “I look after the stationery orders, and I can tell you that no one could be going through that many whiteboard markers. I was worried that we were getting some dud stock, because I was having to replace so many in the chemistry labs, so I checked. Fred has dozens of perfectly functional whiteboard markers squirreled away in his desk. Besides, they always coincidentally show up to Granny’s at the same time for coffee.”

Emma marvelled at the seemingly limitless reservoir of town gossip Ruby seemed to hold. “You seem to know everything about everyone. How do you know so much?”

“It’s small town life. Everyone is always in everyone else’s business. I waited tables for Granny all through high school, and I still cover shifts on weekends sometimes, so I know almost everyone in town. And pretty much any drama in town at least partially plays out at Granny’s. It’s kind of like the small town New England equivalent of a Roman forum.”

“What’s Regina’s story?”

“Regina? Honestly, I don’t know much about her, and it’s pretty unusual for me to say that. She’s always kept to herself. She moved here with her son when he was a couple of years old – no husband or boyfriend in tow.”

“I heard a rumour that she’s got a thing with groundskeeper Willie.”

“Willie? Oh, you mean Graham. He’s Irish, not Scottish.”

“Whatever. I’ve seen him at her house a couple of times when I’ve been out running, and Regina really doesn’t seem like the type to just invite people around for tea parties.”

“No way, there’s nothing going on there. Graham is a beautiful, beautiful man, entirely too tender-hearted for our Evil Queen. He’s the kind of guy who cries after sex. She’s the kind of woman who bites your head off after sex and lays her eggs in your neck.”

Emma contemplated this. “You seem to know an awful lot about the two of them. So which is it: tear stains on your pillow, or mantis eggs in your neck? Or is it both?”

Ruby laughed. “As easy on the eyes as the Evil Queen is, I like to snuggle for a bit before I get kicked out of bed. And, I like my snuggle buddies to be a little more hairy-chested, a little more manly.”

“Well that answers one question – not Regina. But Graham? Is he your idea of a manly, hairy-chested snuggle buddy”

“I’ll admit that I am a little fond of Graham and his beautiful, manly chest. And in about a hundred years time when I’m ready to settle down, he’s the man I’ll marry.”

“And Regina and Graham, there’s really nothing there?” Emma couldn’t help but lean forward, intently awaiting Ruby’s answer.

“I don’t know. Regina’s got some hold over Graham, but he’s never told me what it is. I’m ninety-nine percent sure they’re not sleeping together, but whenever her lawn needs mowing or her gutters need cleaning, or whatever, she snaps her fingers and he’s there. I can’t blame her really – he’s quite ornamental. If I had a lawn to mow, I’d happily make him a pitcher of iced tea and observe from the porch while he took care of it.”

Emma chewed contemplatively as Ruby spoke.

“You seem very interested in Regina… what do _you_ think of her?” Ruby’s gaze was calculating. She clearly hadn’t missed Emma’s interest in the topic of Regina’s love-life.

“Honestly, I try very hard not to think about her, because when I do I find myself thinking about how utterly infuriating she is, and wondering how I’m going to screw things up with her next.” Emma still hadn’t smoothed over the events of last week – she’d well and truly gone back to avoidance. In turn, on the unavoidable occasions when they had encountered each other at school, Regina had reverted to her previous harshness.

“You seem pretty curious about her – what’s that about?”

Emma shrugged. “I just want to know how to make it through the school year without Regina killing me. She’s come close a time or two.”

Ruby continued to press. “She’s pretty hot, don’t you think?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I suppose so, if you like boobs and lips and hair and legs, and sultry eyes and… okay yes, by objective standards she could be considered to be attractive.”

Ruby snorted at this. “I don’t care if you use metric or imperial. By any measure, that woman is an 11 out of 10.”

Emma sighed, realising that Ruby had some kind of angle and she wasn’t going to give it up. “And this is relevant how?”

“There’s just something about the way the two of you interact, a certain chemistry.”

“Ruby, chemistry usually suggests happy little sparks. You’ve seen the way things are between us – I could only describe most of my interactions with Regina as being doused with napalm. Nasty chemical burns, not happy little sparks.”

“No, no, I’m pretty sure there’s something else there. She ignores pretty much everyone else, but she seems fixated on you for some reason. Some sort of sublimated attraction expressed through anger and aggression.”

Emma snorted. “Sub-li-mat-ed…” She sounded out the word experimentally. “Ruby, I’m not even sure that either of us is smart enough to know what that word means.”

Ruby shrugged. “I’m just calling it as I see it.”

Emma pinned her with a suspicious look. “You’ve been talking to Archie. No way you cooked this up by yourself.”

Ruby had the good grace to look slightly guilty. “Okay, so I may have mentioned some hypothetical people I knew that may bear some kind of superficial resemblance to you and Regina. And he and I may have possibly discussed how certain behaviours might be interpreted. And collectively we came to the conclusion that either she wants to destroy you, or otherwise she wants to jump your bones. Possibly both.”

Emma groaned. “Seriously. You discussed my hypothetical attraction to Regina with Archie. Does he know you were talking about me and Regina?”

Ruby smirked. “No, I discussed her hypothetical attraction to you. Are you suggesting that you might, hypothetically, be experiencing something that might, hypothetically of course, be classed as attraction towards Regina?”

“Ruby, hypothetically, I could kick your ass all over Storybrooke.”

Ruby’s grin became even wider. “So you’re not denying it then?”

Emma tried to summon up a glare inspired by Regina. She failed miserably.

“I knew it!” Ruby grinned wolfishly. “You luurrve her. If magic were real you’d be all like ooh, Regina, I want you to magically impregnate me with your magical babies”.

At this, Emma took the only action reasonably available to her. She threw a chickpea at Ruby’s head. Ruby frowned at the chickpea now resting in her lap. “There’s no need to take out your sexual frustration by committing acts of violence against me. You should consider channelling that energy into more fruitful pursuits. Like yoga, or ikebana.”

“God you’re annoying. Remind me why I’m friends with you.”

“Because you need someone to counsel you about your epic love-hate story and your future magical babies.” The grin was back.

Emma’s retaliation was swift. Unfortunately, it was also scud-like in its hopeless lack of precision. Emma’s premature triumph quickly turned to horror as her makeshift cherry tomato missile missed Ruby’s head entirely, thudding into Regina’s 11 out of 10 chest as she walked through the staff lounge door. Regina’s lips described a perfect ‘o’ as she froze in the doorway.

Emma’s eyes darted back and forth between Regina’s face and her chest, not sure where to look, not sure what would be safest. She bit her lip as she waited for whatever metaphorical fireball Regina might choose to unleash in her direction. Any other time, any other person, she would have been laughing hysterically. Instead, she cursed the cruelty of an unsympathetic universe, a universe filled with chaos and misfortune, as she contemplated almost certain death.

Regina’s astonishment quickly gave way to anger as her eyes lit upon the figure of her unwitting attacker. “Miss Swan.” Her voice was clipped, measured. She continued, “How utterly unsurprising to find you behaving in a manner more befitting the children that you are supposed to be setting an example for.”

“Oh god. Regina, I’m so sorry, I…” Emma’s apology ran out of steam under Regina’s withering gaze.

She fumbled for some explanation to offer, some way of deflecting the coming onslaught. Her traitorous mouth seized upon a possible avenue before the more sensible part of her brain could intervene.

“Ruby’s just joined a softball league, and she wanted some tips on how to improve her throwing technique.”

Regina looked incredulous at this. “Miss Swan, I hardly think that this is an appropriate venue to conduct a coaching clinic. And, if your teaching technique is that poor, then it’s little wonder that our softball team has started the season zero for four.”

Emma aimed a surreptitious kick at Ruby’s shin, who appeared to be on the verge of collapsing into uncontrollable laughter, before responding to Regina’s attack. “Hey, that’s a low blow. I’ll have you know that I captained my high school team to a championship.”

“I can only imagine that you won by forfeit after your poor aim caused all of your opponents to fear for their safety.”

Ruby’s head swivelled back and forth between the two antagonists, the effect not unlike that of a sideshow clown. She stood up, casting a sympathetic glance at Emma. “Well ladies, this has been fun, but I have a meeting with the Headmistress.”

Emma shot a wounded look at Ruby. “Traitor,” she mumbled.

After Ruby left her to hang, Emma stood there awkwardly staring at Regina. “Seriously Regina, I am sorry. In the theme of pretty much every one of our encounters ever, it was an accident.”

Regina shook her head. “Miss Swan. I’m not angry, I’m not even disappointed. After all, to be disappointed, you have to have high expectations in the first place. And in your case, I’ve learned very quickly not to have any expectations at all.”

Emma tried and failed to read Regina’s mood. She wasn’t openly hostile, like she had been in some of their early encounters, and there was a hint of humour that had crept into their exchange of a moment ago. However, there was something else that Emma couldn’t quite put her finger on, a heaviness. She decided that now might be the time to stop with her avoidance tactics and to try to clear the air between them.

“Regina, about the other day. I said some things to you that I regret. My position here is precarious – my contract is only for this year at the moment, and I was scared about what those allegations would mean for me. I jumped to some conclusions in the heat of the moment, and I’m really not proud of how I behaved towards you.”

Regina’s face had remained impassive through this. She appeared to consider her words carefully before speaking. “Miss Swan, I’m honestly not sure how to respond to you. You said some very hurtful things to me, things that aren’t easy to forget, and I felt like you were being honest with what you really think of me. I’m aware that I’m not particularly well-liked among most of the faculty, and among much of the town, to be honest. I’ve become accustomed to that – I know I’m not the easiest person to be around. However, I thought that we’d achieved a degree of mutual respect, in spite of our shaky beginnings.”

Regina had maintained a neutral expression as she said this, her voice pitched low and her tone even. However, Emma had spent entirely too much time distractedly mapping out the nuances of that incredible voice during staff meetings and had detected just the slightest hint of a quaver. She felt sick – she had genuinely hurt Regina. She’d completely screwed this up, and she didn’t know how to fix it.

“Regina…” She started to speak again, but the bell had interrupted her, signalling the end of the period.

She shook her head. “Regina, sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a class to get to at the other end of campus. I hate to leave things this way – can we continue this conversation later?”

Regina’s mask faltered for just a moment before snapping back into place. “Miss Swan, I’ve said all that I want to say about this matter. I’m not interested in any further discussion.”

Emma had no choice but to leave, having to run to make it to her next class in time. As it was, she arrived at the gymnasium after her students, out of breath, and decidedly out of sorts.

She snapped at one of the kids who’d forgotten her gym shoes, and immediately felt guilty about it. She didn’t want to be that kind of teacher, the one that students were afraid of. She had encountered teachers like that, both as a student and as a teacher, and in the end it never did any good. She’d watched kids drop out of sports or gain a lifelong hatred of exercise, just because they’d been ridden too hard by some sadistic power-tripping teacher who was bitter about their crappy life. She took a deep breath and tried to banish any thoughts of Regina and the tattered state of their not-quite-friendship, refocusing on the matter at hand – indoor soccer.

“Okay kids, we’re playing indoor soccer today. Does everyone remember the rules we covered last week? Okay, good. I’m going to give you a number from one to four – please find your teammates and discuss your positions.”

*****

Ruby ambushed Emma after classes finished. She was on her way out to run home when Ruby had coincidentally bumped into her in the car park.

“Soooo, did Regina give you a tongue-lashing after I left?” Ruby grinned lasciviously.

Emma glared. “Honestly Ruby, I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

Ruby hastily backpedalled. “Hey, sorry. Did she really tear through you after I left?”

Emma grimaced, remembering the earlier conversation. “Not exactly.”

Ruby quirked an eyebrow. “Well, that sounds ominous. How about I give you a ride home, and you can invite me in for a cup of tea and tell me all about it?”

Emma agreed grudgingly, not sure she really wanted company, but also not sure she wanted to be left alone to stew for the evening. She was given cause to regret her decision when she actually got in to the car, and experienced the unique approach to driving that Ruby employed. Ruby, she discovered, had a tendency to speed, cut people off and curse like a New York taxi driver. Emma spent the whole, mercifully brief, journey clinging white knuckled to the arm rest on the door. She couldn’t help but contrast it with the way that Regina drove – smooth, confident, in control.

By the time they reached her house, Emma suspected she might need hard liquor rather than tea to recover from the ordeal. Ruby seemed cheerfully unaware of the mental scarring her driving had inflicted, unfolding herself from the driver’s seat, getting out and yanking open the passenger side door, where Emma was still sitting.

“I think my life just flashed before my eyes.” Emma had to consciously loosen her grasp on the car door, and she noticed that her legs were shaking a little when she stood up.

They made their way inside, and Emma fished around in her pantry for some tea bags. Her mission was unsuccessful, so she grabbed a couple of cans of soda instead and they curled up at opposite ends of her couch.

Emma flicked at the tab on her soda can, not quite sure how to start.

Ruby broke the silence. “So what happened? Did you declare your undying love for Regina and she knocked you back?”

Emma looked up at Ruby. “I have a can of soda at hand this time, not chickpeas or tomatoes.”

“Hey, simmer down. I can’t help if you won’t tell me what the problem is.”

Emma continued to fidget, undecided whether to fill Ruby in on the whole situation. She sighed – it wasn’t like it would really make a difference – Ruby already knew that something was going on, and knowing Ruby, she’d find out one way or another.

“There’s really not much to tell. I’m an idiot, and Regina is quite rightly furious with me.”

Ruby scoffed. “What, for throwing a vegetable pretending to be a fruit at her? That just made her regular edition Regina-cranky.”

Emma’s look was pained. “If only that was it, but there’s a bit more to it than that. Maybe you noticed that things had started to settle down between Regina and me. Well, recently we’d started to reach a point where we had a degree of mutual respect for each other. I think that we were maybe even heading towards some kind of friendship.”

Ruby nodded. “Now that you mention it, there was significantly less chaos and destruction being wreaked in the last couple of weeks.”

“Well any kind of understanding that we’d achieved has been pretty much destroyed. From everything you’ve said, and from what I’ve heard elsewhere, Regina doesn’t trust easily, and she certainly doesn’t forgive quickly. I broke that trust – I accused her of putting Sidney up to that stupid frame-job about the favours for athletes.”

Ruby frowned. “It’s totally possible that she did put Sidney up to it. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s used him to achieve an outcome in her favour. She pretty much waged a war against the Head of History and Social Sciences through _The Mirror_ a couple of years ago.”

Emma shook her head. “No, I don’t think she did. I didn’t have any evidence when I accused her – I just lost my temper and remembered what I’d heard about her and Sidney. But I think that I was wrong about her. The way she spoke to me today, I think I really hurt her, really broke her trust.”

Ruby laid a comforting hand on Emma’s leg. “You seem pretty miserable about all of this. More miserable than you should be if she was just a colleague who you’d pissed off a little bit. What’s going on with you?”

Emma hugged her knees to her chest. “I don’t know what this is, or what I want from her. I know that I’m attracted to her – it kind of took me by surprise. At some point I actually started to enjoy sparring with her, and then I started to notice just how attractive she is, and then I started to realise that there’s more to her than that Evil Queen mask she wears all the time.

“I don’t really do relationships – hell, I’ve slept with people without asking their name before. Maybe I just want to be her friend. I don’t know. I don’t know what she wants, either. All I know is that there was something there between us, some tiny little bud, and I crushed it, and I really wish I could take it all back.”

“Oh, Emma. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise this was serious. I thought that you were just fooling around. We’ll see what we can do to fix this."

Ruby patted the couch next to her. “Come here.”

Emma thought about refusing, but in the end decided to accept the comfort. She leaned back into Ruby, accepting the hug. They stayed that way for a while, mostly silent.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a little bit of trouble with this chapter - I finished writing it a couple of days ago but wasn't happy and scrapped most of it. Hopefully this version flows okay. This one's an extra long chapter to make up for the wait.

The remainder of the school week had been miserable. Emma did her best to focus on her classes and on coaching, but her mind kept flitting back to Regina. Ruby had taken one look at her on Friday, and more or less kidnapped her and dragged her along to Friday night drinks. Drinking and dancing had helped her forget things for a little bit, but it also meant that she’d slept a good part of Saturday away, only to wake up with something of a hangover.

She emerged from her bed sometime after noon, scowling at her dishevelled reflection as she tried to clear away the after-effects of a lot of tequila with toothpaste and face wash. After dispatching last night’s smeared make-up and the weird furry thing that had taken up residence on her tongue, she went scavenging in her fridge and pantry, managing to find enough edible items to construct an omelette. As she sat choking down her breakfast and mainlining coffee, she decided that she’d moped around for long enough. The self-pity-party needed to be over.

She decided a little self-flagellation was in order, and that she’d run out the remainder of her hangover. She threw on a light shell and some tights, and headed out, planning to go trail running in the forest near the edge of town. The first couple of miles were painful, her stomach roiling uncomfortably, and her limbs sluggish, but she started to find her rhythm by the time she arrived at the outskirts of the forest.

She enjoyed trail-running when she got the chance – it required a completely different mindset to road-running. Instead of the rhythmic state of near-numbness she experienced with road-running, trail-running required an awareness of her surroundings, her body and how she used it. The constant need to adjust her stride to compensate for obstacles in her path, and the importance of feeling the ground with each footfall meant that she achieved a very different psychological state, and ultimately had a more challenging and interesting run.

Today, it was something of a struggle to break through some of the remaining grogginess, and she really had to force herself to concentrate to avoid twisting an ankle or a knee. However, it also left her no room to think about any other things that had been playing on her mind.

She gradually let the tranquillity of the forest envelop her. The air was cool, and there was only the occasional sound of birds, and the snap of twigs and leaves under her feet.

Emma had been running in the forest for about three quarters of an hour on one of her favourite trails, fully immersed in her run when she heard an unexpected sound. She stopped, doing some stretches and having a quick drink, listening out. She heard it again. It sounded like a cry for help.

Emma started towards the sound, calling out. “Who’s there? Where are you?”

She heard an answering cry, and continued to navigate towards the sound. The back and forth continued until she finally came to a small embankment. She carefully peered over the edge.

She gasped. “Henry! Are you okay? What happened?”

Henry was at the bottom of the embankment, tear tracks staining his face, shirt torn, holding his left ankle. He looked up, hope suddenly dawning on his face. “Miss Swan! You found me.”

Emma assessed the situation. There was what looked to be a safer way down the embankment about 50 yards away.

“Henry, hang tight. I’m going to be down there with you in a minute.”

She quickly made her way down the embankment and back to Henry.

“Okay, kid. I need to assess your injuries. Can you tell me what happened, first of all?”

Henry sniffled. “I was walking and I got distracted. I tripped over a tree root, and fell down here.”

“Did you hit your head, or were there any impacts on your neck or your back?”

Henry shook his head. “No, I’m mostly okay. A few scrapes and bruises, but I think I’ve hurt my ankle pretty bad.”

Emma had a quick look at Henry’s eyes to check for obvious signs of a concussion. She examined his hands and arms, finding a range of scrapes and bruises, but no serious cuts. His left ankle was obviously swollen. That was going to make things difficult.

“Okay kid. I’m not a doctor, but I’ve seen a few of these, and it looks like you’ve got a sprained ankle. Have you tried standing on it?”

Henry nodded. “It really hurt. I tried to climb back up to the trail, but I couldn’t put any weight on my foot.”

“Henry, do you have a cell phone? I left mine at home.” Inwardly, she cursed that decision. Normally she used her cell to listen to music on her runs, but she generally preferred not to when she was trail running.

He shook his head. “No, Mom confiscated mine when she busted me for sneaking off to track practice. She hasn’t given it back yet.”

Emma grimaced. “Damn. It’s going to start to get dark soon, and the temperature will drop. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave you here while I go for help. I think we’re going to have to try to hike back towards the edge of the forest. It’s maybe a mile and a half from here.”

Emma leaned down, getting Henry to place his left arm over her shoulder. They slowly made their way towards a less steep part of the embankment.

Emma turned to face Henry. “Do you think you’ll be able to climb this?”

Henry shrugged. “I’ll try.”

He started up the slope, making it a couple of feet, before collapsing in pain as his ankle flexed under his weight.

“Okay kid, looks like we’re going to have to do this another way. I’m going to carry you up there on my back – you’ll need to hold on tight and stay really still so I can keep my balance. And, I’m not going to lie to you, this is probably going to hurt a lot.”

Emma crouched down, allowing Henry to climb onto her back. She thanked the universe that he was still pretty scrawny and hadn’t had a growth spurt yet. Still, it wasn’t going to be easy. She half-crawled, half-climbed her way up the slope, veins popping with the exertion, knees skinned from the rough ground. She was suddenly glad for every crunch she’d ever done, every core strength exercise. She hauled them both over the top edge, and then collapsed to the ground, the exertion leaving her momentarily winded.

Henry lay beside her, clutching his ankle. He’d been incredibly brave, keeping still and biting back the cries of pain that had threatened to escape. Emma stayed there for a moment, getting her breath back, and letting Henry get his composure back before she made him get to his feet. Once again, she had him shift some of his weight onto her, and they made their ponderous way through the forest, Henry occasionally wincing with pain as he stumbled on the uneven ground. The sun was already setting, and they still had a mile to go. At the pace they were moving, it was going to take at least half an hour to cover that ground. Emma shook her head – they needed to move faster.

“Henry, I’m going to try to carry you the rest of the way out of the forest. Otherwise we’re going to be caught here in the dark.”

Emma piggy-backed him, stopping every couple of hundred yards for a brief rest. Despite that, they were making much better time. She was exhausted, but at this point, she really didn’t have a choice. November nights could get pretty cold, and she didn’t want Henry to be out here any longer than he had to be.

To distract herself and him, she started talking. “So Henry, you didn’t tell me what you were doing out here. Wanna fill me in?”

Henry had sighed. “I just wanted to get out of the house. I needed some space to think, and it’s usually pretty quiet down here.”

“Anything you want to talk about? I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

“You never knew your parents, right? I remember you saying that you lived in a whole lot of different homes when you were growing.”

Emma shook her head. “No. I wound up in the foster system when I was a baby. I never met my parents, and I don’t know who they were.”

“Did you ever try to find them?”

“I did try a couple of times, but I didn’t get anywhere. I don’t think they wanted to be found.”

He hesitated a moment, before deciding he could trust her with what was going on. “I found out Mom’s been lying to me about something pretty important. I got this letter a couple of days ago, and it said that Mom isn’t actually my real mother.”

Emma sucked in a breath. “She’s never said anything to you before?”

“No. I never had any reason to question that. I just thought she was my Mom, that I was just a regular kid.”

“Have you spoken to her about it? Asked her?”

Henry shook his head. “No. I was just really angry she’d been lying to me, and I needed to get away to think about things before I talked to her.”

“Do you know who the letter was from?”

“It was just signed ‘a friend.’ Nothing else.”

“Henry, I think you owe it to your mother to talk to her about this. Be honest about how you’re feeling.”

He sniffled. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. All I know is that a few days ago, she was my Mom, and now she’s not.”

Emma stopped walking. “Henry, it doesn’t matter whether she gave birth to you, or whether she chose you. Point is, she loves you, and she’s still your Mom.”

Henry sounded uncertain. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I know so. I’ve seen how much you mean to her. You know, when I was a kid, I would have given anything in the world to have someone like her choose me. You’re so lucky to have each other.

“When I was a kid, I used to make up stories about who my parents might be. I had one theory where my Mom was a princess, and she had to send me away to save me from a witch who wanted to kidnap me. In another, my parents were spies, and they hid me away to keep me safe from enemy operatives. Later on, I realised that the reality was probably a bit different, and I got pretty angry and lost my way a bit. But I was lucky enough to have someone who helped me realise that my life was whatever I made of it. You should make the most of the good things in your life, kid.”

They continued on, finally arriving at the edge of the forest as dusk set in. They were a couple of miles from the edge of town, on the main road out, and they walked slowly onwards towards the town, eventually flagging down a passing car. The driver, a tourist on her way out of town, let them use her cell, and Emma called Regina, who was frantic with worry.

Henry was starting to get cold. Emma stripped down to her singlet, taking off her running shell and wrapping it around Henry’s shoulders. They huddled together at the side of the road, waiting for Regina to arrive.

*****

Given the events of the past few days, Emma had never thought she would be so happy to see Regina and her Mercedes, but when the car arrived a few minutes later, Emma could have cried with relief.

Regina jumped out of the car, looking unusually dishevelled, her face creased with worry. She took one look at Henry before crushing him in a tight hug. He protested a bit, before relaxing into the hug.

Emma stood off to the side and watched the reunion for a moment, hoping that Henry had gotten the message loud and clear.

Regina finally stopped fussing over Henry for a moment, bundling him into the car, before she looked over at Emma.

“Hey Regina. Henry’s ankle – I’m pretty sure it’s just a mild sprain, but you should get him off his feet and get some ice and a compression bandage onto his ankle as soon as you can.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you and Henry to it. I’m just going to head home now.” Emma was keen to avoid the awkwardness that was likely to develop if she hung around for any longer. She and Regina still weren’t really on speaking terms, and she didn’t want to intrude when things were so delicate between Henry and Regina.

Regina gave her a once over and raised a sceptical eyebrow. “You don’t have your car?”

Emma nodded. “No, but it’s okay. I can run home – I do it all the time.”

Regina made an exasperated noise, stepping forward and grabbing Emma’s arm. The sudden warmth against her chilled skin almost burned. “You’re dead on your feet, dear. I doubt you’d make it a block, let alone a few miles. You’re coming with me.”

Regina looked so determined, and Emma had too little strength left to argue, so she allowed herself to be guided to the passenger seat. Regina closed the door gently, and Emma leaned against the window, suddenly too exhausted to hold her head up any longer.

Regina drove in silence, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. Emma could see the muscles in her jaw working furiously, fighting to keep some emotion in check.

After a few minutes, they turned into what Emma recognised as Regina’s driveway.

Regina turned to her. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get Henry settled in and then I can give you a ride home.”

“Sure. Whatever works for you.”

As they came to a stop next to the house, Emma watched Graham come out of the front door. She fought back a wave of jealousy, unable to stop herself wondering what he had been doing here. He walked out to the car, standing beside it talking quietly to Regina. Emma observed with narrowed eyes as he leaned in to give Regina a quick hug before stepping back, his hand still resting on her arm for a moment.

Emma stepped out of the car, and Graham offered her an easy smile. “Hi Emma. I hear you and Henry had a crazy day.”

Most women were probably charmed by those shiny white teeth and his thick Irish brogue. She wasn’t one of them. She shrugged, not feeling particularly friendly. “Something like that.”

Graham opened the back door, leaning in to scoop Henry up into his arms. “Okay kiddo. Let’s get you upstairs.”

Regina indicated to Emma that she should follow them inside, so she trailed along after them.

Ruby had assured her that there wasn’t anything between Regina and Graham, but there was an easy intimacy there that suggested that Ruby was a little off the mark. They moved like people who were used to spending time together, the kind of unconscious awareness of the other that couples had. Emma sighed to herself; she had no right to be jealous – Regina didn’t owe her a thing. Graham was a handsome guy, and Regina could definitely do worse. He was also obviously really good with Henry, cracking corny jokes to distract the kid from the pain as they made their way upstairs. None of that made her feel any better about it though.

Regina turned to her. “Miss Swan, take a seat in the kitchen, and I’ll be back down in a moment. It’s down the hall at the back of the house. Help yourself to a drink while you wait.”

Emma nodded, and made her way through the house, checking out her surroundings as she went. The house was furnished in a tasteful, minimalist style, lots of black and white. There were pictures of Henry throughout, each one hung with militaristic precision. It was hard to believe a kid lived here as well – there wasn’t a thing out of place. Emma felt like she’d stepped into a home and garden magazine shoot. It was pretty much the polar opposite of her place, with its cheap, mismatched furniture, shoes haphazardly strewn across the living room, mail and other paperwork littering her kitchen table.

She found the kitchen at the back of the house. It was clearly the kitchen of someone passionate about cooking. Everything was high quality – she recognised the knives as the kind professional chefs used, and there were a range of high-end appliances. She had a look through the fridge, impressed by what she saw. Unlike her fridge, there was actual food other than condiments and week-old takeout. She grabbed herself a bottle of water and sat at the bench sipping slowly.

Regina came down after a couple of minutes, brandishing a bottle of antiseptic and some bandages. “Graham’s helping Henry have a bath. In the meantime, I thought I could see to those cuts and scrapes. Some of them looked quite nasty.”

Emma screwed up her nose. “I don’t think I’ve had scraped knees like this since I was around Henry’s age. I feel like a kid right now.”

Regina pulled up a chair in front of her, cleaning dirt and gravel out of the scrapes on her knees. Emma squirmed and complained noisily when Regina applied some antiseptic. “Ow, shit! That really hurts. Do you really need to do that?”

Regina laughed. “You’re worse than Henry. At least he sits still while I do this. And yes, I really do need to do that. Otherwise, it might turn gangrenous, and then you’ll have to get the whole leg chopped off. You wouldn’t want to have a stump instead of a leg, now would you?”

Emma sighed mournfully. “Now you’re talking to me as if I’m a kid. I bet that’s what you say to Henry as well.”

Regina smirked at her. “That’s what I used to say to Henry when he was seven. Now he’s a big boy and he doesn’t complain. You on the other hand…”

Regina finished cleaning up her scrapes, applying bandages to each knee. The muscles in Emma’s thigh jumped as Regina gently smoothed the bandages down. The touch was perfectly innocent, but Emma couldn’t help but be transfixed by the sight of Regina’s olive skin dark against her own, cataloguing the sensation of soft, gentle hands as they brushed against her skin.

Regina smiled softly at her, her hand still on Emma’s thigh. “Miss Swan, I want to thank you for getting my son home safely. I don’t know what I would have done if anything serious had happened to him.”

Emma swallowed thickly, barely able to process anything other than the warmth of Regina’s hand on her leg, and the slight tickle of a thumb unconsciously brushing back and forth against her skin. She clamped down on the urge to reach out and trace Regina’s features with her hand, the strong jawline, high cheekbones, the full lips. Her eyes strayed lower for a moment. As always, Regina’s blouse was buttoned just the right side of decency, the top button straining a little, hinting at what was underneath. Those just-too-tight blouses and poor overworked buttons had gotten her through many a boring staff meeting over the last few weeks. It should be illegal to be that sexy – she wanted to kiss Regina right now, push her up against the island bench and...

She shook her head, eventually managing to reactivate the speech centres in her brain. “Uh, that’s okay Regina. It’s no big deal. And, it’s Emma. Not Miss Swan. I think that by now, we should be on a first name basis. You have, after all, just seen me cry like a baby over some antiseptic.”

Graham walked in at that moment, and Regina pulled away, standing up and moving across the kitchen. Emma felt the loss of contact acutely.

“Regina, Henry’s all bathed and bundled up in bed. Do you need help with anything else?”

“No, thank you Graham. Although, I’d appreciate it if you could give Emma a ride home.”

Emma had been looking forward to spending a few more brief moments with Regina, and inwardly, she cursed Graham and his poor timing. “Uh, thanks. That would be great. But first, Regina, do you need any help with Henry’s ankle? I’ve taken care of a lot of sprains in my time.”

Regina shrugged, and showed Emma where the ice packs and other first aid supplies were kept. They went up to Henry’s bedroom together, Regina and Graham watching as she busied herself checking out Henry’s ankle.

Henry looked smaller and paler than usual, and Emma offered him a sympathetic smile.

“Hey Henry. We need to get you bandaged up, so that your ankle doesn’t swell too much.”

Regina was watching her intently. “Are you sure you know you’re doing, Miss Swan?”

Emma scoffed. “Of course I know how to bandage an ankle. I’d be a lousy gym teacher and track coach if I couldn’t take care of a sprained ankle.”

Emma expertly strapped Henry’s ankle and grabbed a couple of pillows to prop it up on. She put the ice pack on, loosely securing it with another bandage.

“Okay, kid. This will help keep the swelling down. You need to leave the ice on for about 15 minutes at a time, then 10 minutes off, then on again and so on. Make sure you keep your foot up on these pillows tonight while you sleep.”

She ruffled his hair. “No more crazy adventures in the forest kid. I’m going to have a big hole in my line-up for the next couple of weeks while that ankle heals up.”

He smiled wanly at her. “Sorry Miss Swan. Thanks for taking care of me today.”

She turned to Regina, who had started fussing over Henry’s scrapes and cuts. “You should get him checked out tomorrow, and he’ll probably need crutches for a couple of days.”

She headed towards the door. “I’ll see you both next week.”

Emma walked downstairs with Graham to his car. He drove her home, making light, easy conversation the whole way about sports and how she was enjoying Storybrooke and all sorts of things. Emma really wanted to hate him, but she found herself warming up to him. Ruby was right – he was actually just a really decent guy, and maybe if things were different, they might actually be friends. She thought about asking him some probing questions about how he and Regina fit together, but decided she really didn’t want confirmation if there was something going on.

They arrived at her place, and he gave her a cheery wave as she walked towards her front door, waiting until she was safely inside to drive off. Emma made a beeline for the shower, desperate to scrub off the accumulated filth of the day. She shuddered as she saw the water turn grey, layers of dirt and sweat sloughing off her skin. She got out of the shower, pulling on some sweat pants and a singlet, not bothering with a bra. She towel-dried her hair, letting it fall in loose curls around her shoulders.

Emma looked at the clock. It was only 7:30 – way too early to go to bed. She scavenged around the kitchen for something to eat, thinking enviously of Regina’s kitchen and its contents. Damn, she thought, she really needed to go shopping. Eventually she found a half-eaten bag of Cheetos and retired to the couch to eat her nutritious dinner and watch some TV, dozing off almost immediately.

*****

Emma was awoken by her doorbell. She sat up, disoriented, the remote control clattering to the floor, and the bag of Cheetos, which had been balanced on her chest, spilling on the couch. She muttered a curse, wondering who could be at her door so late, before looking at the clock and realising it was only 8:30. She tripped over the shoes that she’d pulled off and thrown carelessly on the floor, cursing again. “Fuck!”

Eventually she made it to the front door, opening it while rubbing sleepily at her eyes.

Regina stood on her doorstep, a container in one hand, her other hand poised to ring the doorbell again. “Miss Swan, I’m sorry, have I come at a bad time?”

Emma blinked at her in confusion. “Regina?” Her voice was husky with sleep, and it took her a moment to get up to speed with the situation. Emma cleared her throat. “Sorry. I just woke up. My brain’s not quite working yet.”

Regina was staring at her, and Emma remembered, suddenly self-conscious, that she wasn’t wearing a bra, folding her arms across her chest. She could have sworn for a moment that Regina had been checking her out.

“Miss Swan, I was hoping to talk to you, but I can see this is a bad time. I thought you might be hungry after this afternoon’s adventures, so I brought you some leftovers. I’ll just leave these with you, and we can talk some other time.”

Emma shook her head. “No, it’s okay Regina. You can come in, on one condition though. Please, call me Emma, at least while we’re not at work.”

Regina nodded. “Thank you Miss… Emma.” Her lip curled a little.

Emma laughed, her victory inspiring a fist pump. “Yes! Seriously though Regina, it’s not like my name’s _that_ difficult to say.”

Emma stepped back from the door, gesturing for Regina to come inside. Emma could see Regina checking out her surroundings with a degree of distaste as they walked through the house. She followed Regina’s gaze to the couch, covered in spilled Cheetos, and the episode of Jersey Shore on the TV. God, how embarrassing. She moved to clear the Cheetos off the couch, collecting a couple of empty takeout boxes as she went.

Regina was looking at her intently, and Emma had a sudden rabbit in the headlights moment.

“I can see it’s just as well that I brought you dinner. You might just have died of malnutrition if I hadn’t.” Regina smirked at her, but the look was not unkind.

Emma snarked back. “I’m almost certain that Cheetos are one of the five food groups, along with sugar, coffee, alcohol and bacon.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “I’ll admit to being relatively unfamiliar with the high school gym curriculum, but I’m almost certain that nutrition is one of the areas you’re supposed to cover with your students. I genuinely fear for the health of the next generation if you’re the role model they look to.”

Emma grinned at her. “So you always practise what you preach, then?”

Regina smiled. “Of course.”

Emma laughed. “I have a superpower – I can almost always tell when someone is lying. And right now, I know that you’re lying.”

Regina shrugged.

Emma was enjoying herself. There was something invigorating about sparring with Regina like this. There was no malice behind the words on either side; if anything, at times it felt a little like the kind of push and shove between guys who were friends, a kind of verbal arm wrestling. Although, on her side, at least, she knew there was more to it – she’d do pretty much anything to draw Regina’s attention.

Suddenly, Regina moved towards her, reaching out a hand towards her hair. Emma froze, her eyes wide, sucking in a breath as Regina’s fingers brushed through her hair.

Regina laughed, drawing her hand back suddenly. “Were you saving this for later?” She held up a rogue Cheeto.

Emma blushed, eyes still wide. “Oh God. That is so embarrassing.”

Regina’s eyes were dancing with mirth, and Emma was once again reminded of how beautiful she was. She looked away, trying to compose herself, afraid that her thoughts would be all too clearly written across her face.

“Regina, have a seat. I’m just going to get a sweater.”

“That sounds like a good idea. It does appear to be a little cold in here.”

Emma’s eyes snapped back to Regina’s. The look she received was all studied innocence, but Emma was pretty sure that Regina’s meaning had been anything but.

She walked to her bedroom, shaking her head. She looked around until she found a sweater that appeared to be clean, pulling it on over her head.

When she returned to the living room, she discovered that Regina had moved to the kitchen, where she was heating up the leftovers she’d brought over.

Emma’s stomach rumbled loudly at the smell of it – she realised she was starving.

“Oh my god, Regina. That smells amazing.”

Emma walked into the kitchen, leaning against the sink as she waited for the food to heat up, feeling a momentary relief that she’d at least cleaned the kitchen before going out for her run. Regina clearly already thought she was enough of a slob, without a sink full of dirty dishes to contend with.

Regina had managed to find her crockery and cutlery, and had already dished out a huge slice of lasagne. Emma looked at the kitchen table, deciding it was a lost cause, before carrying her plate over to the couch.

Regina raised her eyebrows minutely, and Emma shrugged in response, suddenly less concerned about Regina judging her, and more concerned with appeasing her stomach. Emma tucked in eagerly, while trying her very best not to appear like a starving animal confronted with food for the first time in weeks. After scoffing almost half the plate, barely stopping to draw breath, she finally slowed down and started to appreciate the meal in front of her.

Emma was in a state of bliss. “You were so right about your lasagne. It is better than Granny’s. So much better. If it was legal, I would totally marry this lasagne and we’d live happily ever after together.”

Regina was perched daintily on the edge of the couch, watching Emma, an amused smile playing about her lips. “Thank you. I fear you may be exaggerating though.”

Emma hastily swallowed so that she could protest. “No, seriously. This may actually be the best thing I’ve put in my mouth ever.”

Regina smirked. “I don’t doubt that.”

Emma was almost certain now that Regina was flirting with her a little.

Emma finished eating, dumping her plate in the sink, calling out to Regina. “Regina, can I make you a cup of tea or coffee or something?”

“Tea would be nice.”

Emma made two cups of tea, carrying them back into the lounge room. She placed them both on the coffee table.

“Miss Swan…” Regina corrected herself before continuing. “Emma. Thank you again for what you did today.” She paused, a frown creasing her forehead. “I worry that I don’t know what’s going on with my son. Recently, it feels like he’s becoming a stranger to me – he’s always been so open, but now…”

She took a sip of her tea. “He looks up to you. He comes home from school, and it’s _Miss Swan this_ and _Miss Swan that_. I admit that I’m a little bit jealous sometimes, but I’m also hoping that you might have some inkling of what’s going on with him. He told me that he had a history project to work on today, so I gave him a ride to the library, but he obviously snuck off after I’d left.” Regina looked up from her mug, her eyes fixed on Emma. “Do you know if he’s having problems with the other students again, or if there’s something else going on?”

Emma hesitated. Henry had spoken to her in confidence, but she understood the kinds of thoughts that would be going through his mind right now, and she was worried that his adventure in the forest might just be the beginning of things. She’d tried running away more than once when she was Henry’s age, hoping to find her birth parents, and nothing good had come of it.

“Regina, I’m breaking Henry’s confidence right now, but I think it’s important that you know what’s going on. I think it’s also important that you approach this carefully. Henry told me today that he thinks he’s adopted. He was angry and he wanted to get away to clear his head, so he ran off to the forest. I don’t think he was trying to run away, but I know what I was like when I was his age, and he might just do something foolish.”

Regina was clearly startled, her eyes widening. “How…” Her voice cracked, and she took another sip of tea, clearly trying to compose herself.

“He said he received an anonymous letter during the week.”

Emma watched in concern as the colour drained from Regina’s face. Regina’s hands were shaking, and she cried out as the tea sloshed over the edge of the mug and onto her fingers.

Emma moved across the couch, taking the mug from Regina’s hands and putting it safely on the coffee table. She gently grasped Regina’s arm, turning her hand to examine it. The skin on the back of Regina’s hand was red, angry-looking, and she sucked in a breath at the sight of it.

“Regina, we should get this under some cold water.”

Regina snatched back her hand, cradling it against her chest. She snapped at Emma. “I’m fine.”

“Regina, please. That looks painful. I’m going to get you an ice pack.” Emma went into the kitchen, rummaging through her freezer. She found an ice pack, and turned to go back to the living room, when she heard the front door slam shut. She rushed out into the living room – Regina was gone. She ran through the house, opening her front door and stepping out just in time to see the tail lights of Regina’s car as she drove off down the street.

“Damn.” Emma shook her head, and went back inside. This evening had felt like progress, but now she wasn’t sure where things stood. She was suddenly conscious of her exhaustion, and she headed straight for bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you can forgive the use of Deus ex MacHenry to get Regina and Emma talking again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the longer wait for this chapter - busy week with no time for writing. I should have another chapter uploaded in the next couple of days.

Sunday really sucked. Emma woke up feeling like she’d gone ten rounds with a grizzly bear. Every muscle in her body ached, and she was pretty sure she’d put her back out. She really didn’t feel like moving. Unfortunately, her empty fridge stared back mockingly, so she had no choice but to leave the house if she wasn’t to die of starvation. Damn. For piggy-backing her kid a mile through the forest, Regina really should have been hand-delivering her breakfast, lunch and dinner for a week. Preferably in bed.

Emma dragged herself to the shower, the hot water soothing her aching muscles for a brief moment. She felt a little better when she stepped out of the shower, but everything still hurt. After moping around for a little while, wishing that a plate of waffles would magically appear, she drove into town in search of breakfast at Granny’s. The diner was packed, so she was glad to see Ruby, Mary Margaret and David seated together in a booth. They waved her over, and she gratefully sat down, ordering a giant stack of pancakes when the waitress came over.

Ruby waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Emma… sore back, walking a little stiffly. What, or should I say who, have you been doing?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but my evening was not nearly as exciting as you might have imagined.”

“No sultry-eyed, dark-haired lover keeping you up all night, her voice rasping in your ear?” Ruby fanned herself melodramatically.

Emma jabbed Ruby in the side with her elbow. “No, Ruby. I spent the night very much alone. Perhaps you have some news you’d like to share, rather than speculating about my non-existent love-life.”

Mary Margaret and David had watched this exchange with bemusement, but at Ruby’s words, Mary Margaret had a light-bulb moment.

“Oh! You’re gay. That’s why you didn’t hit it off with Victor. You should have said something – I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable setting you up with Victor.” Mary Margaret’s face fell as another thought occurred to her. “I hope you don’t think that I’m homophobic, and that’s why you didn’t tell me. I was president of the gay-straight alliance in high school.”

Emma shook her head. “Not gay. I’ve dated both men and women. Victor and I just weren’t quite right for each other. As for talking about it, it can be complicated when you’re a teacher – not everyone is so tolerant. I hadn’t really got a read on what things were like in Storybrooke, so I didn’t want to be too out there, although people are welcome to assume what they want about me.” She glared at Ruby. “Ruby pretty much got me drunk and pried it out of me, but I haven’t really told anyone else in town.”

Ruby looked suitably repentant. “Sorry Emma. I got a bit carried away. But Mary Margaret and David are totally on the level – Mary Margaret and I have been friends since we were in kindergarten.”

Mary Margaret perked up again, and a familiar gleam entered her eyes. “You know, Emma, there’s a woman in my quilting circle that I’m pretty sure you’d hit it off with. Maybe I could put you in touch?”

David shot an amused look at Emma, who could feel her face shifting into a fixed manic-looking smile, before gently tempering his wife’s enthusiasm. “Honey, maybe Emma’s not looking to date right now. She’s probably still getting settled. A new job and a new town – those are big changes.”

“But honey…”

Fortuitously, Emma’s pancakes arrived, giving her a temporary excuse to opt out of the ongoing discussion between the Nolans. She was eagerly devouring them when she was distracted by Regina walking into the diner. She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth, watching as Regina made her way through the diner to the counter. She belatedly realised that she’d been staring, and turned back to her pancakes, hoping no one had noticed. She felt Mary Margaret’s eyes upon her, and looked up again.

Mary Margaret was looking at her with a sudden spark of understanding, a treacly smile spreading across her face. “No wonder you’re not interested in dating. You’ve already got your eye on someone.”

Emma tried to play it cool, knowing that she was failing miserably, but still living in hope. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mary Margaret eyes were wide, innocent, but she clearly wasn’t buying it. “Of course. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Emma felt a sense of dread settle in the pit of her stomach. It was bad enough that Ruby had made her. Now Mary Margaret knew that something was going on. She didn’t like the sense that things were slipping out of her control.

David tried to change the subject, unwittingly steering the conversation into dangerous waters again. “So Emma, are you going to the staff party at Regina’s the Saturday before Thanksgiving? We have about four each year, and the senior teachers take it in turn to host. I think you missed the first one for the school year – it was just before the semester started.”

Ruby grinned. “I’m sure Emma will be there.”

Emma noticed that Mary Margaret’s eyes focusing on her as well. Silently, Emma plotted Ruby’s demise. After she finished eating her pancakes though.

After breakfast, Ruby and Emma grabbed a couple of take-away coffees. They walked down the street to the park, and sat down next to each other at an empty picnic bench.

Ruby bumped Emma lightly with her shoulder. “Hey. Sorry about before. Sometimes I open my mouth before I think things through. I know this whole thing sucks – I was just trying to make you laugh.”

Emma sighed. “It’s okay. I’m just worried that things are spinning out of control. Mary Margaret has guessed that something’s going on, and you guessed as well – how long until other people start to put two and two together and get five? I mean, am I really that obvious?”

Ruby squeezed Emma’s knee, trying to reassure her. “Hey. Don’t worry. I’m basically attuned to anything remotely newsworthy in Storybrooke. And Mary Margaret pretty much sees true love wherever she looks. Doesn’t mean that anyone else is going to see anything out of the ordinary.”

“I hope so. I don’t even know what’s going on, so I don’t want this to play out as some form of entertainment for the benefit of the whole town. And Regina’s an incredibly private person – I think she’d hate it if she inadvertently became fodder for the gossip mill, just because I have some stupid misplaced feelings that I can’t control.”

“So is there anything new to report on the Regina front?”

Emma sipped her coffee, wondering how much of yesterday’s events she should share with Ruby. “Some things happened yesterday – I can’t really tell you many of the details. She came to my house, and we talked, and I flirted a bit and she may have even flirted back. I felt like there may have been some progress – that she at least likes me a little bit, even if she doesn’t trust me. But then something happened and she left really suddenly… and I still don’t know where things stand. It just seems to always be one step forward, two steps back.”

“Wow, that’s tough.” Ruby winced, sympathetically. “So are you planning to go to the party? It’ll be a great opportunity to spend some time with her in a much more relaxed environment.”

Emma cupped her chin in her hands, feeling despondent. “I don’t know. I’m wondering if there’s too much risk of other people figuring things out. And I don’t know if she would want me there anyway. Honestly, I think it’s just best if I let go of whatever this is. Get over it and move on. There’s no realistic possibility of anything happening between us even in the remote chance that she is interested in me. Maybe it’s best that we’re just the kind of colleagues who nod in the hallways, say good morning in the staff room, and leave it at that.”

“Emma…” Ruby looked at her with sympathy brimming in her eyes. “Is that even possible? The two of you have this energy when you’re together – there’s meant to be something there.”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t know. But I think I should try.”

Ruby sighed. “I don’t think it’s the right way to go; I think you’ll feel like you’ve lost something if you try to shut down that connection you have. But you should come to the party anyway, whatever you decide. These things are usually an absolute hoot. The last one was at Archie’s, and a bunch of the staff wound up having a duel to the death by means of Singstar. It was awesome.”

Emma laughed. “I’ll think about it. I’m not singing though, no matter what.”

Ruby grinned. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something even more entertaining this time.”

*****

On Monday, Emma was still in ridiculous amounts of pain. Her first two classes had made fun of her – one of the kids had mimed walking with a Zimmer frame, another had laughed when he saw her walking funny and intimated that karma’s a bitch. She’d been tempted to make them run laps of the athletics track, but she restrained herself. After second period, she retired to her office to have a bite to eat, and to sulk about the disrespectful juvenile delinquents she was forced to work with. She had just taken an enormous bite of a bear claw when she was startled by a knock at her door.

“Mmmmffnn…”

The door was thrust open, and Emma hastily swallowed as she saw who was on the other side.

“Regina…” Emma started to speak, but Regina was looking at her with intent.

Regina stood ramrod straight. Her lips were a firm, hard line, jaw clenched, and when she spoke, her voice was like the crack of a whip, designed to intimidate, to invoke compliance.

“Miss Swan. I’m sure you’re busy, so I’ll be brief. You are absolutely not to discuss any of what you learned about Henry with anyone. Not your good friend Miss Lucas, not your priest, not your bartender, not even your pet rock. If I hear otherwise, there will be consequences.”

“God, of course Regina. I wouldn’t violate your privacy that way. You didn’t even have to ask.” Emma was shocked by the hostility in Regina’s tone.

“I’m glad we’ve got this sorted out. I must get to my next class.”

As Regina turned to go, Emma got to her feet. She reached out to take hold of Regina’s arm, stopping her from leaving. “Wait, Regina. How’s he doing?”

“You were right. It’s just a sprain. He’s on crutches for a couple of days, but he should be walking normally by the end of the week.”

“Okay. Glad to hear that. But the other thing, how’s he taking it?”

Regina’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. He won’t really talk to me about it. He’s not really talking to me at all.”

She looked lost, and Emma realised that the intimidation tactics were nothing more than a brittle façade masking fear and more than a little bit of sadness. For a moment, Emma thought that Regina was on the verge of tears, and she laid comforting hands on her shoulders.

“Hey. It’s going to be okay. I kinda get what he’s going through, and I know that in a little bit he’s going to remember just how lucky he is that he has you.”

Regina allowed the comfort for a moment before stiffening and stepping back. The mask slipped firmly into place again, and she turned to go again. “Thank you Miss Swan. I really must go now.”

Emma stared after her, wishing she had the power to fix this. She didn’t like seeing Regina so wounded.

*****

Later that day, Emma was running track practice. The third meet for the season was coming up on the weekend and she was using this session to decide her line-up for the meet. Henry showed up a few minutes after the start of practice, slowly making his way up into the bleachers where she sat taking notes.

“Hey Miss Swan.” He sat down next to her, carefully laying down his crutches.

She smiled. “Henry. I didn’t expect to see you today. Your Mom told me that you were on crutches.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I should miss practice though. I’m still part of the team.”

“I like the attitude, kid. So you’re going to be my assistant coach today?” Emma grinned. This kid was something special.

Henry grinned back at her, suddenly enthusiastic. “That would be awesome Miss Swan.”

“So kid, how long are you off the ankle for?”

Henry sighed. “Doctor Whale said I need to be on crutches until tomorrow. I don’t know when I’m going to be ready to train again. He said he’d look at it again in a couple of days.”

Emma put a hand on his shoulder. “I think you’re likely to be out from training for a couple of weeks, and when you come back, it won’t be to a full training load straight away. Doctor Whale should give you some exercises to do to strengthen your ankle. I want you to promise me that you’ll do them religiously – otherwise you’ll find it harder to start training again.”

Henry crinkled his nose in disgust. “It’s not fair. I wish I didn’t have to miss the meet this weekend.”

“Me too, kid. But when you play sport, injuries are a fact of life. You just do your best to minimise your risks and manage your injuries properly when you do have them.”

They sat there for a while watching the team run. “So, assistant coach, can you tell me what’s wrong with Olivia’s form?”

Henry watched intently. “Her upper body’s too tense. Her hands are clenched into fists – she’s wasting energy.”

“Good job. And what about Stephen? How do you think he’s going?”

“He looks pretty good.”

“Mostly he does. But he’s sitting a bit too low when he runs. Means he probably needs to work on strengthening his glutes.”

Emma groaned as she levered herself up off the bleachers. She went over to the team to give them instructions for the next set of drills, and then returned to where Henry was sitting. She sat there taking notes as she watched the team. After a while, Henry spoke.

“Miss Swan, why do you think Mom lied to me?”

Emma sighed. She was going to have to tread delicately here. “Kid, this is something you need to talk to your Mom about.”

“I know, but I don’t know if she’ll tell me the truth. I’m still angry that she didn’t tell me before. I thought you might be able to help me understand.”

“Kid, adults have all sorts of reasons for doing things. She might have thought that she was protecting you. Maybe she wasn’t ready to tell you, or maybe she didn’t think you were ready to hear it. Maybe she was scared that if she told you she might lose you – that you wouldn’t think of her as your mother anymore. There’s all kinds of possible reasons for what she did. Grown-ups aren’t infallible – we don’t all make perfect, rational decisions all the time. But all that aside, I know that your Mom loves you and wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you, and I think you know that too.”

Henry sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.” He paused for a moment. “Do you think I should look for my parents?”

“I think that’s something that you’ll need to decide for yourself. But it’s not a decision you should rush into right away. You need to talk to your Mom first, straighten things out with her. She’s worried about you, and she’s hurting. I know you’re hurting too, but you need to give a little ground, let her know what you’re thinking and feeling.”

“I guess you’re right Miss Swan.” Henry looked at her, a serious expression on his face. “You know, I’m glad my Mom’s got you as a friend. I think she’s kind of lonely – she doesn’t really see anyone much apart from Graham, and sometimes Kathryn comes to dinner.”

Emma smiled wryly. “I don’t know if your Mom really thinks of me as a friend. Maybe more like a thorn in her side, an annoying colleague who just happens to keep getting in her way.”

Henry shook his head. “No way. She really likes you – she’s different when she’s around you. You make her smile sometimes – really smile – I’ve seen it. Not many people make her smile like that. I think you kind of annoyed her at first, but she sees you differently now.” His face lit up. “You like her too, right? You should hang out more often, maybe come to dinner. I’d like that, and I think she would too.”

“Of course I like her, Henry, but I can’t just invite myself around to eat dinner at your place. It wouldn’t be polite.”

He frowned. “You’re right. She would think that was impolite, and she is really big on manners.”

Emma turned her attention back to the training session, leaving Henry sitting in the bleachers watching. She was pleased with the way the squad was coming along, and she felt like this weekend’s meet would be a good test to see what they were made of.

After training finished, Henry asked her to walk him back up to the school buildings. He had his backpack, so she took it from him, allowing him to focus on walking with his crutches.

He noticed her moving stiffly. “Hey Miss Swan, are you injured too?”

She shook her head ruefully. “No, kid. I’m not injured. I’m just old, and feeling the after-effects of hiking around with an eleven-year-old on my back. I’m more into running than lifting weights, so my body’s a bit cranky with me at the moment.”

Henry looked remorseful. “Sorry Miss Swan. It’s my fault you’re hurting.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it kid. Just don’t do it again.”

They made their way up to the school together, and Henry made a beeline for his mother’s office.

He burst into her office, and Regina spoke without looking up from her work. “Henry, dear, I’ll just be a couple of minutes. Could you sit here quietly and wait for me to be done?”

“Okay, Mom.” Henry sat down, and Emma put his school bag next to his chair.

“See you later kid.” Emma ruffled his hair.

Regina looked up from her work, a hint of surprise flashing across her face. “Miss Swan. I didn’t realise you were here.”

“Hi Regina. I was just helping Henry with his school bag.”

“Mo-om.” Neither Regina nor Emma missed the wheedling tone in Henry’s voice. Emma looked at him suspiciously. “You know, Miss Swan is pretty tired and sore from saving me on the weekend. Maybe we should have her over for dinner tonight to thank her. That way she can relax and not worry about having to cook herself dinner. She barely looks like she could hold a spatula right now.” He shot her a cheeky grin.

Emma’s eyebrows shot up. Sneaky little brat. “Henry, I promise you that I’m capable of making myself dinner. I’m not an invalid and I won’t starve. And, I’m sure your mother is tired as well and doesn’t need the stress of an unexpected dinner guest.”

Regina frowned. “Henry’s right – we both owe you our thanks, and the least I can do is to make you dinner. It wouldn’t be an imposition at all.”

“You don’t owe me anything Regina. There were absolutely no conditions or expectations attached to my actions. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing more to it.”

Regina shook her head. “I won’t be persuaded otherwise. Henry and I would love to have you over for dinner tonight, unless you’re busy?” Regina looked at her expectantly.

Emma thought about lying, but shook her head. She had to admit that the prospect of Regina’s cooking and her company well and truly left Easy Mac and Jersey Shore re-runs in the shade. She also figured that if it wasn’t tonight, it would be some other night, with the seed that Henry had planted. She might as well do this sooner rather than later. “No, no plans, other than some TV and something highly nutritious out of a box.”

Regina’s lips curved with a hint of a smile. “Excellent. Then we’ll see you at seven o’clock, sharp, dear. No need to bring anything.”

Henry grinned at her, winking. “See you later Miss Swan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Regina-Emma time coming up in the next chapter, I promise.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not updating sooner. I've been out of town for a few days, and haven't had a chance to write.
> 
> This was going to be a longer chapter, but I'm not happy with where the second half is at yet. I'm posting the first half, because I've kept you all waiting long enough. Hope you enjoy it.

Emma walked out to her car, shaking her head. That sneaky little so-and-so had comprehensively out-manoeuvred both her and Regina. No way Regina would have turned down Henry’s request, given the way things were between the two of them, and given the sense of obligation she would have felt after the weekend. And Henry must have known that she wouldn’t have been able to say no to a dinner invitation after he’d laid on a sob-story about how lonely Regina was. The result: her plan to put some distance between herself and Regina was in ruins.

She drove home, stopping by the liquor store on her way. Despite Regina’s insistence, she didn’t feel right about turning up empty-handed. She ummed and ahhed for a little while over what to buy, frustrated at the small range available. Eventually she picked out a dessert wine, figuring that would be safest given that she didn’t know what Regina was cooking. She winced at the premium she was having to pay to get a decent bottle, missing the options available to her back in the city.

When she got home, she jumped straight into the shower. She had a couple of hours before she had to be at Regina’s house, so she was determined to make herself look vaguely presentable. She showered quickly, trying to push aside the feeling that this was all a giant mistake, that she was headed for disaster. She stepped out of the shower, drying off and rummaging through her closet trying to decide what to wear. She flopped onto her bed, suddenly overwhelmed.

“This isn’t a date. It’s no big deal.” Emma repeated the mantra to herself. She tried to remind herself that really, Henry had invited her, and that this was a casual dinner with a student and his parent, who just happened to be a colleague she had confusing feelings about. “You can do this, Emma.” She dragged herself to her feet, and found a pair of jeans, a plain black top, and took her favourite red leather jacket off its hanger.

Emma stood in front of the mirror, applying a hint of make-up. She appraised her reflection critically. Blonde curls, hazel eyes, high cheekbones, a strong jaw. A mouth and chin that would charitably be described as stubborn. A slender but muscular physique. She knew there was no shortage of people who found her attractive. But there was also a roughness around the edges, a lack of polish, and it was this that had her questioning why she’d be so presumptuous as to even contemplate the possibility that Regina might be one of those people. Regina, with her refined beauty, her sophistication, was way out of her league. Regina was the sort of woman who probably dated Harvard-educated Boston Brahmins, not messed up, commitment-phobic orphans with colourful backgrounds and anaemic-looking bank accounts. Emma was, at most, the kind of girl that people had fun with for a while, before they moved on and settled down with someone suitable.

Emma looked at her watch, realising that she needed to leave in a few minutes. She suspected that Regina would not be impressed if she was late. She picked up the wine, threw on her jacket and made her way to the car. She arrived a couple of minutes before seven, and sat in the car taking deep breaths, trying to compose herself. She was nervous. Every other encounter she’d had with Regina had been spontaneous, unplanned. She’d had no time to form expectations, no opportunity to worry over every possible outcome. This was different.

The clock ticked over to seven, and Emma steeled herself. She walked up to Regina’s front door, ringing the doorbell. She stood there for a moment, before Regina answered the door, looking a little flustered. Regina was still wearing the dress she’d worn to school, but she’d obviously refreshed her make-up. Despite this, Emma couldn’t help but notice that Regina’s eyes looked suspiciously red-rimmed, and she wondered what she was walking into.

“Hi Regina.”

“Emma.” Regina looked like she’d been caught by surprise. “Is it seven already?”

Emma frowned, concerned. This didn’t seem like Regina at all. “Hey, if this isn’t a good time, we can call this off.”

Regina shook her head. “No, please come in. I just got caught up in something and lost track of time.”

“Okay, if you’re certain.” Regina waved her in, and Emma decided not to argue further. She held out the bottle of wine. “I wasn’t sure what you were cooking, so I brought a dessert wine.”

“I distinctly recall telling you not to bring anything, dear. But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you can’t follow instructions.” Regina’s tone was light, taking the sting out of her words.

Emma laughed. “You know me. All brawn, no brains.”

Regina took the bottle from her, and raised her eyebrows as she examined the label. “I suppose I can’t turn you away for this little act of disobedience, particularly when you apparently have such excellent taste. A Pedro Ximenez sherry – I wouldn’t have thought that was your style.”

Emma smiled a little self-consciously, realising that she may have overplayed things a little for a casual Monday-evening dinner between colleagues. “I’m not really a wine geek, but I had an old roommate who was a sommelier. She pretty much forced me to learn a bit about wine, and she’d use me as a guinea pig sometimes – she said my ‘unrefined palate helped her to know what to recommend to the hoi polloi’ or something like that.”

Regina laughed. “She sounds delightful.”

Emma followed Regina through to the kitchen. Henry was at the table working on his homework. He looked up and shot her a quick smile, but it seemed a little more subdued than usual. Emma got the distinct feeling that she’d waded into the middle of some sort of Mills family drama.

Regina indicated that she should take a seat at the bar. “I’m sorry, I’m a little behind schedule. I’d planned to be further along with dinner, but…” she trailed off, shrugging.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m okay to just hang out.”

Regina went to the refrigerator, retrieving a bottle of Riesling, and pouring a glass for each of them. “I’m afraid I didn’t have time to prepare anything particularly elaborate. We’re having a chicken and vegetable stir-fry – I hope that’s okay?” She walked over to the bench and started chopping a large array of vegetables.

“Regina, I pretty much live on a diet of grilled cheese, instant noodles and take-out. Anything you cook is likely to be the best thing I’ve eaten in months.”

Henry had been sitting quietly, focusing on his homework, but he suddenly piped up. “Mom, you always promised me that if I ate my vegetables, I’d grow big and strong, but it doesn’t seem to be working. But Miss Swan doesn’t eat vegetables, and she’s really strong. Maybe I should be eating junk food instead.”

Emma grinned. “Regina, I don’t know how you can argue with that logic.” Her smile faltered a little as Regina turned from the chopping board, shooting a glare at her, all the while holding a very large, very sharp knife. Emma threw up her hands, backpedalling furiously. “Ah, you know Henry, you’d probably be even shrimpier than you already are if you hadn’t been eating all those vegetables. Clearly your Mom has saved you from a life of being too short to go on rollercoasters.”

Regina’s lips curved into a smirk. “Henry dear, while I admire your attempts at constructing a syllogism, I’m afraid the vegetables are simply not negotiable. Miss Swan will be lucky if she doesn’t have a heart attack by forty with a diet like that.”

Emma shrugged. “She’s right, kid. My arteries probably already look like crap, and if I didn’t run 8 miles a day, and spend the rest of the time running around trying to get teenagers to do more exercise, I’d probably turn into a blimp.”

Henry frowned, obviously recognising that he’d been outplayed. “Okay, so I guess I’ll keep eating vegetables.” His face suddenly turned calculating. “Mom, I don’t want Miss Swan to have a heart attack. We should have her over for dinner more often, so that she gets to eat more healthy food. Maybe you could teach her to cook.”

Regina’s eyebrows shot up. Emma watched as she sucked in a breath, clearly not sure how to respond to Henry’s machinations. “Henry…”

Emma jumped in, sensing Regina’s discomfort. “Kid, your Mom’s pretty busy. She doesn’t need me cluttering up her kitchen, getting in her way. Besides, the last time someone tried to teach me to cook something more complicated than an omelette, I nearly set their apartment on fire. The fire brigade came and everything. Seriously, there were two trucks.”

Henry gave Emma a look that seemed to suggest that while he was making a strategic withdrawal for the moment, he wouldn’t be giving up on this cause anytime soon. He turned back to his homework.

Regina turned her attention back to the chopping board. “I’m sorry. I need to finish this, otherwise it will be midnight before we’re eating.”

“I’d offer to help, but I suspect I’d probably get in the way, and the last thing we want is for the fire brigade to come round for dinner as well.”

Emma sipped her wine and watched with interest as Regina prepared dinner. She moved gracefully around the kitchen, clearly in her element, a sudden calm descending. Emma smiled as she noticed Regina humming softly to herself while she chopped vegetables, handling the obviously sharp blade with speed and precision. She was so accustomed to seeing Regina braced for combat that it was a strange jolt to see this unfamiliar side of Regina, this almost-stranger who was relaxed, momentarily content.

Emma was lost in thought, storing away this moment, adding these new details into the portrait of Regina she’d developed in her mind. She almost didn’t notice when Regina asked her a question.

“Are you okay with spicy food? I usually add a couple of chillies to this, but I can leave them out if you would prefer.”

Emma tried to focus. “Um. No, spicy is okay. I’ll trust your judgment.”

“Excellent.” Regina lit the stove, heating a small amount of oil. She turned to Henry for a moment. “Henry, dinner will be done in a few minutes. Put your books away and go wash up ready for dinner.”

Emma watched as Regina started to cook the chicken in batches. “Regina, can I help by setting the table or something? I’m pretty sure I won’t set anything on fire doing that.”

“Thank you, dear. That would be wonderful.” Regina pointed her in the direction of the crockery and cutlery and turned her attention back to the stove.

Emma set the table, and Henry came back downstairs just in time for Regina to serve dinner.

Emma chewed her food contemplatively. She swallowed, and said, “Regina, I think you might just have converted me to vegetables. If I’d known they could be this good, my love affair with grilled cheese might have been over long ago.”

Regina shook her head. “Dear, I think you’re exaggerating. I’ve seen how married you are to junk food. I heard a rumour just last week that you challenged someone to a duel when they got the last bear claw at Granny’s. If that isn’t commitment, I don’t know what is.”

Emma grinned. “All I’m saying is that there’s room in my heart… and in my stomach.”

Regina rolled her eyes, trying and failing to suppress the hint of a smile playing about her lips.

Emma turned to Henry. “You know kid, if I had a mother who made vegetables taste this awesome, I wouldn’t be complaining about eating them.”

Emma continued melodramatically. “I mean, you could have it so much worse. Broccoli cooked until it’s grey, lumpy mashed potato, bland squeaky beans. I suffered through all of these as a child. No wonder I always used to break into a cold sweat when confronted with vegetables.”

Henry sighed. “All I’m asking for is an occasional pizza that comes in a box and isn’t topped with goats cheese and prosciutto. Maybe with some stringy cheese and some cheap pepperoni. Is that too much for a boy to ask?”

Regina shook her head at their antics and walked into the kitchen for a moment. She sat down again, fixing her gaze on Emma, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “Dear, I could actually teach you to cook if you’re interested.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Regina, wow. That’s really sweet of you to offer.” One part of her was screaming yes, at the prospect of spending more time with Regina. However, another part of her, one more concerned with self-preservation, was trying very hard to be heard. Self-preservation won. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea though.”

Regina looked disappointed, and Emma rushed to reassure her. “Seriously, I wouldn’t do that to a friend. I wasn’t joking about the fire brigade. I can just about handle a microwave, but stoves are dangerous territory.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Really, dear, you should be able to cook at least a few things. What would you do if you invited someone over for dinner?”

“I would take my finest selection of take-out menus and present them with a flourish.” Emma exaggeratedly waved her hands about in demonstration.

Regina shook her head and continued. “What if it was someone that you wanted to impress? What then?”

“I’d distract them with my good looks and undeniable charm and hope that they didn’t notice that we were eating dinner out of cardboard boxes.” Emma turned on her best 1000-watt smile. It didn’t seem to have the desired effect.

Henry piped up. “Even I know how to cook. Mom just taught me how to make lasagne.”

Emma had the distinct feeling that now she was the one being ganged up on. She was rescued by the sound of the oven timer going off, drawing Regina back into the kitchen.

Henry’s eyes lit up. “Mom made apple turnovers. They’re my favourite.”

Regina returned from the kitchen with the turnovers, serving each with a scoop of home-made vanilla ice-cream.

Emma was in a state of bliss. “Wow, these are amazing. If this was the last thing I ate, I’m sure I’d die a happy woman. I may actually die of happiness right now.”

Regina smiled. “Hopefully this won’t be the last thing you eat. To my knowledge, my turnovers have never killed anyone before.”

Emma made a satisfied sound as she chased the last fragments of her dessert around with her spoon. “I’ve forgotten all about the stir-fry. My heart now belongs to these apple turnovers.”

After they finished eating, Emma insisted on earning at least a little bit of her dinner by clearing the table, stacking the dishwasher and washing the remaining dishes.

Henry grinned at her. “That’s normally my job, but seeing as I’m on one leg, I won’t fight you for it.”

Emma brandished a dish cloth menacingly. “Just as well, Grasshopper. I’m a black belt in kitchen cleaning. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Henry laughed as she contorted herself into a pose that was supposed to be reminiscent of some sort of martial art. Regina rolled her eyes, but Emma could tell that she was amused.

“Henry dear, how about you leave Miss Swan to brutalise our poor innocent dishes? You haven’t done your violin practice for the day.”

Henry looked like he was going to argue for a moment, but seemingly thought better of it.

“Okay, Mom.”

Regina ruffled Henry’s hair. “I’ll come up to check on you in a little while.”

Henry’s mood suddenly shifted. He hugged Regina, and Emma could see the surprise on her face as she responded in kind, slipping her arms around her son.

“Love you Mom.” Henry stood hugging Regina for a moment before limping out of the kitchen.

Emma had the sense that she was intruding on something significant. She tried to focus on the task in front of her, but she couldn’t help but watch Regina. Regina was still standing where Henry had left her, a hand clasped to her chest and twin expressions of hope and uncertainty warring on her face, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Regina stayed that way for moments, until she was brought back to herself by the sound of a pan clanging against the sink. Emma grimaced at her clumsiness.

“It’s been a while since Henry’s done that of his own accord.” Regina’s voice was husky with emotion.

Regina turned to her, and Emma could see the tears threatening to spill. “We talked a little bit today. Just before you arrived. It wasn’t much, but it felt a little bit like progress.

Emma put down the pan that she was washing, giving Regina her full attention. “I’m glad you’re talking - I can see how much pain this is causing you both.

Regina hesitated. “I haven’t really told him any of the details of his adoption though.”

“You’re going to have to tell him something. He will go looking without you if you don’t tell him.” Emma smiled grimly. “Believe me, I know.”

Regina sighed. “No, I know you’re right. I just don’t know what to say to him, how to have that conversation.” Regina shook her head. “I’m sorry. I invite you over for dinner and burden you with this. You must think I’m a terrible host.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I can stay if you want me to stay, or go if you need space to figure things out with Henry.”

“Please stay. I’d very much like for once to spend some time with someone old enough to vote. And to drink.”

The look that Regina gave Emma was filled with such naked longing; she just wanted to reach out and pull Regina into her arms. Instead, she nodded her agreement, and followed Regina into the living room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taken me far too long to get this chapter out, but my excuse is that I'm moving interstate in a couple of weeks, and things are pretty hectic. Hope this was worth the wait.

“I can only have one more drink. I have to be able to drive home tonight.”

“Of course. I’ll make some tea after this.”

Emma sat down in an overstuffed armchair, while Regina fussed around pouring drinks. As she sat watching Regina, she realised the futility of her plans to put some distance between them. Ruby was right. There was a pull between them, the kind that meant that no matter what, they could never just be casual acquaintances. Apathy was not an option. They could be lovers, friends, or even enemies, but as long as they were in each other’s orbit there would always be a force drawing them together. It was as inevitable and as irresistible as gravity. The only way to escape it would be to run away, to leave Storybrooke and Regina behind, and when she turned that idea over in her mind, she wasn’t sure that she was ready to do that yet.

Despite the minefield of possible complications, she hadn’t felt this whole, this together in a long time, maybe ever. She had a job that she was enjoying, and she’d formed genuine connections with people, something she’d never really allowed herself to do before. Storybrooke was filling holes that she’d never realised existed, and she wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

Emma was disturbed from her reverie, Regina’s fingers brushing hers as she handed her a glass of the sherry. Trying to distract herself from the reaction this casual contact provoked, Emma smiled up at Regina and said, “Of course you have sherry glasses.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Were you expecting me to hand you a chipped ‘I heart New York’ mug instead? What kind of savage do you think I am?”

Emma laughed. “That’s more my speed. And, I’ll have you know that I only give that mug to honoured guests. It’s one of my most prized possessions, stolen from the staffroom at my first teaching job.”

Emma grinned as Regina rolled her eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “So you can add petty thief to your long list of accomplishments, then?”

Emma pouted. “You wound me. I’m no petty thief, I assure you. Maybe I’ll tell you the story of Tim the Beaver some day, otherwise known as the greatest heist of all time.”

Regina kicked off her heels and curled up on the sofa opposite her, wriggling stockinged toes and sighing in obvious relief and pleasure. Emma was surprised by how relaxed Regina suddenly seemed, how homely this all felt.

Emma took a slow, measured sip of her drink. She smiled a little wistfully as the thick richness of the wine coated her tongue. “I love this stuff. It tastes like liquid Christmas. Or at least what I’ve always imagined Christmas would taste like if distilled into its purest essence. I don’t really have many good memories to draw from.”

Regina looked at her, eyes brimming with sympathy. “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that must have been, what your life was like.”

Emma distractedly peered at her drink, swirling the gold-brown liquid, watching it coat the sides of her glass. She spoke, surprising herself with how much she was willing to share with Regina.

“This time of year was always the hardest. The kids at whatever school I happened to be at that month would be so excited about Thanksgiving and Christmas. More often than not, I’d be in a group home – families often get too busy to want a foster kid around for Christmas, and I’d be shunted off to spend the holidays with a new group of strangers, get a generic Christmas gift from a charity. A few years I spent with foster families, but it usually wasn’t a great time. People drink too much, say things, do things that they might not do other times of the year. One year I ran away, spent a few weeks on the streets. I didn’t like the way their eldest son looked at me, and my instincts told me to get out of there while I could.”

“I’m sorry that you had to grow up like that.” Emma could tell that Regina felt the words were inadequate, but she appreciated the sentiment behind them.

Emma shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad. I also met some really decent, caring people who helped keep me on the right track, who helped a lot of other kids.”

They sat in companionable silence for a little while, sipping their drinks, before Regina finally spoke. Her voice was quiet, tentative, and Emma sensed that it took a lot for her to reveal this much of herself.

“I’m afraid that I won’t be the mother that Henry deserves. My mother was…” she hesitated for a moment. “My mother was not a kind woman. I don’t want him to grow up thinking of me like I thought of her, questioning her love, resenting her.”

Emma shook her head. “No. What you’ve given Henry is the greatest gift. Love. A family. A home. He could never think that about you. He knows you love him and he loves you.”

Regina was silent, eyes fixed on her drink, clearly holding back tears.

Emma continued. “You know, I found out when I was a little older that there was a family who had planned to adopt me. I was with them until I was almost four. I don’t really remember much about that time; I was too young. But I know for a little while that I was loved, secure, and I still kind of remember what that felt like. And then that feeling was taken away from me because they unexpectedly got pregnant, and didn’t want to keep me when they could have a child of their own.”

Regina looked horrified. “How could they do that?”

“I don’t know. For a while, I thought there must be something wrong with me. And then I spent a lot of time wondering how my life could have been different if they had kept me. I ended up just bouncing around the foster system, and the older you get, the less likely you are to be adopted, because people really do think there must be something wrong with you. Henry’s lucky that you saved him from that possibility.” Emma smiled grimly, the wounds of her childhood still a little fresher that she would have liked.

Emma shook herself. “I’m sorry. Now I’m being incredibly maudlin. You don’t need to hear all of this - I’m supposed to be cheering you up.”

Regina looked at her with an expression she couldn’t read. “No, I’m glad you shared this with me. Earlier, you said I was your friend. Maybe you were joking, but I hope that you meant it, that we are friends.”

Emma drained the last drop of her drink. “I did mean it. You now know things about me that very few people know.” These experiences, these feelings, they were things she hadn’t shared with anyone before, and she was surprised at how easy and how natural it had felt to talk about them with Regina.

“Would you like me to make some tea?”

Emma thought about it for a moment, before declining. “I wish I could stay a little longer, but it’s getting late, and I have an early start tomorrow.” It was true. She did have a before-school softball practice to run in the morning. But it was also true that she was afraid of how much she might let slip if she stayed any longer.

Regina nodded. “Of course. I’ve kept you far too long for a Monday night.”

She was polite about it, but Emma thought she could detect a hint of disappointment.

Regina walked her to the door, and they stood there, Emma fidgeting, not quite knowing what to do with herself in this situation. She hadn’t read the manual on how to say good night to a colleague/friend you had complicated feelings for at the end of a not-date. What was the etiquette here? A handshake? A jaunty wave? A hug? A hug felt too dangerous, too loaded with possibilities.

She figured she’d start with the basics. “Thank you for dinner, Regina. I know the kid conned you into inviting me and you didn’t have to do it, so I really appreciate it. The food was wonderful, and so was the company.”

“I’m glad you came.” Regina stepped forward, pulling Emma into a hug. The hug was awkward at first, Emma stiffening in surprise, but then she relaxed, allowing her arms to snake around Regina’s back, drawing her closer.

As they stood there, Emma couldn’t help but catalogue the minutiae of this moment. The way that Regina in stockinged feet was unexpectedly quite a bit shorter than her, and as a result, Regina’s chin was at the perfect height to rest on her shoulder. The way that Regina’s breath tickled the side of her neck. The softness of Regina’s cheek against hers. The way that the subtle spiciness of Regina’s perfume, understated and no doubt expensive, enveloped her senses. The smooth, cool material of Regina’s dress under her hands, and the way that she could feel the light flex of muscles in Regina’s back. The way that their bodies fused together at a thousand different points, fitting together like two halves of a whole. The way that her own heart was thudding so quickly, so hard, that she was certain Regina must be able to hear it.

After what seemed like both an eternity and an infinitesimally short amount of time, Emma realised that she had been holding Regina a little too long and a little too closely for it just to be a casual friendly hug at the end of a casual friendly dinner between colleagues. And then she realised that Regina hadn’t moved to end it either. Emma reluctantly stepped backwards out of the embrace uncertain of how much she had revealed, how much the unconscious yearning of her body had betrayed her.

Emma was surprised by how intimate this felt. She’d slept with enough people that by now she’d stopped counting, and yet she’d never felt quite this undone, this exposed with any of them. She felt more naked now, fully clothed, than she ever had skin-to-skin with any of the men or women she’d had sex with.

Emma looked up and met Regina’s eyes. Regina was wearing that soft half-smile that Emma had very quickly learned was so rare and so precious, looking at her with liquid dark eyes and an expression that she suspected was the mirror image of her own. Emma drew in a shuddering breath, suddenly incredibly nervous. This wasn’t one-sided at all.

Time seemed to slow down, although Emma couldn’t have said which one of them took the first step forward. Regina’s hand came up to tangle in her hair, before tracing her jawline and coming to rest on her shoulder. Emma’s eyes fluttered shut, sighing with pleasure. She’d never wanted anyone with quite this intensity before. When she opened her eyes again, Regina was close. So close, she could feel Regina’s breath, suddenly quickened, hitting her face. So close that the swell of each breath created a minute point of contact, a bridge between Regina’s chest and her own, before it receded with each exhalation. They stood there for a moment, gazes locked, the air between them heavy with possibility, neither moving to close the gap. This was really happening.

Regina’s hand moved to the back of her neck, and Emma tilted her head forward, and there was only a hair’s breadth between their lips, when the sound of Henry calling for his mother from upstairs brought them crashing back to earth. Regina pulled her hand back like she’d been stung, stepping backwards, and Emma found herself suddenly leaning into empty space, missing the contact.

Regina looked at her with wide eyes, a hint of panic colouring her voice. “You need to leave. Now. This cannot happen. Do you understand me? This, whatever this is, absolutely cannot, will not happen.”

Regina bundled her out the door hastily, and before she even knew what was happening, she was standing on the doorstep, staring at the closed door in front of her. And the Emma Swan she’d always known herself to be, the one who rarely stayed for breakfast, and certainly never did relationships, wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or devastated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deus ex MacHenry strikes again, but this time in the worst way. Apologies all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks, I'm back in action, albeit a bit later than I had planned to be. Massive apologies for leaving you all hanging for so long, but things have been absolutely crazy the last few weeks. Now that I'm all moved in and settled, I'll be trying my best to update weekly from this point on.

* * *

 

Emma lay in bed later on, sleep eluding her. The digital display of her alarm clock mockingly displayed the time: 3 o’clock. She rolled over for what must have been the hundredth time, punching her pillow in frustration. She’d tried every trick she knew to get to sleep, with no success. If she could have, she’d have gone for a run. Unfortunately, chances were she’d run into the Sheriff or one of his deputies out on patrol, and that was a conversation she wasn’t willing to have.

Every time she shut her eyes, her mind replayed the events of the evening over and over. No matter how hard she tried to banish the thoughts, her mind insisted on slow-motion surround sound technicolour detail. Over and over, she examined the almost-kiss from every conceivable angle, constantly questioning her interpretation. She was certain that she hadn’t imagined Regina’s interest, that they really had been about to kiss.

The way Regina had looked at her, had touched her… When she thought back on the evening, she was certain that she hadn’t pushed things, no matter how much she might have wanted to. Regina was the one who had initiated the hug. Regina had been the one threading her fingers through her hair, drawing her close.

Her traitorous body responded with a twinge of arousal, as she recalled the sensation of Regina’s fingers ghosting along her skin. She could almost imagine how soft Regina’s lips would have been, how perfectly their bodies would have fit together.

Barely of her own volition, one hand strayed to her breast, strumming her nipple through the threadbare singlet she’d thrown on to sleep in. The other crept beneath the waistband of her shorts, quickly finding a rhythm. She twisted a nipple roughly through fabric, annoyed at her weakness, and she felt tears prick at her eyes, as her thumb grazed her clit. It was with a sob of frustration more than pleasure that her orgasm swept over her. The process had been mechanical, joyless, and it left her feeling entirely unsatisfied. Nonetheless, it was enough to tip her over the edge into sleep finally.

Emma woke to the sound of her alarm a couple of hours later, groggy, overtired. The uncomfortable stickiness between her legs was a frustrating reminder of her vulnerability, and she tried not to think about what it meant that Regina and her rejection could have this much impact on her. It wasn’t as if this was the first time she’d been rejected by someone she was attracted to, but she generally didn’t go home and spend a frustratingly sleepless night thinking about them.

She eventually got out of bed, turned the shower on hard and almost uncomfortably hot, and stood there under the flow, scrubbing her skin clean until it was almost raw. She got out of the shower, getting dressed, before peering at herself in the mirror. She looked like shit. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was puffy, with the dark circles under her eyes stark against the paleness of her skin. She swept her hair back into a bun, and applied a hint of make-up to try to make herself look slightly more human. She glared at her reflection. “Come on Swan, this is pathetic. Pull yourself together.”

As much as she would have liked to run this morning, she was still feeling some lingering soreness from the weekend. She’d learned to listen to her body and she knew that if she pushed herself too hard too early she would get injured. As it was, she was going to be late for softball practice if she didn’t get moving, so she hopped into the car, stopping only to pick up a coffee and a pastry from Granny’s. As she walked through the door, Eugenia Lucas took one look at her and upsized her usual coffee order, on the house, all the while griping about young people who couldn’t take proper care of themselves.

When she arrived at school, Emma parked as far away as she could from Regina’s usual parking spot; she wanted to minimise any possibility of an encounter while she was feeling so raw, and too tired to deal with messy emotions. She made her way down to the softball pitch, to start what she was certain was going to be a really shitty day.

Her prophecy came to fruition almost immediately. Near the end of practice, her second-base got distracted when the football team ran past on a training run, and copped a ball to the face during a double-play. Emma closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she were anywhere but here, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache. She opened her eyes, disappointed to discover that the last 30 seconds had in fact happened exactly as she remembered it. The whole team was rushing over to where their teammate was lying on the ground holding her face in her hands. Emma groaned, wondering which deity or spirit she’d pissed off.

She jogged over to where Jane was lying on the ground, now surrounded by panicky girls. The fielder who had thrown the ball was crying and apologising. Emma took a moment to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, before trying to disperse the crowd.

“Okay girls, how about we give Jane some space.”

The chattering group of girls ignored her, if anything, crowding closer to Jane. Emma shook her head. “Come on girls, it’s almost time for class. I’ll look after Jane and take her up to the nurse. You all need to get ready for class.”

A couple of the group started to argue with her. Emma’s already thin patience was worn even further. She blew her whistle, startling the group to attention.

“Hit the locker room, girls. Now.” Her tone left absolutely no room for argument.

The group finally dispersed enough for her to get to Jane, who was quite obviously sporting the beginnings of a very impressive black eye. Emma crouched down to take a look at the injured girl, wincing when she got a good look at the bruising.

“That looks pretty painful, Jane. How are you feeling?”

“It’s a bit sore, Coach. Do I have a black eye?”

“You do have a bit of a black eye coming out.”

Jane’s face crumpled. The tears that had been surprisingly absent before suddenly welled up. “Oh God, this is so unfair.”

Emma put a hand on Jane’s shoulder, trying to calm her. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll take you up to the nurse and get you checked out.”

Jane sniffled, “This is the worst timing ever. Sean’s not going to want to go out with me now.”

Slow and sleep-deprived though her brain was, Emma felt like she was gradually catching on. “Is Sean on the football team?”

Jane nodded.

Emma sighed. Relationship counselling for 15-year-olds wasn’t exactly in her job description. “I’m sure he’ll be fine about it. And if he isn’t, then that says way more about him than it does about you.”

Jane looked at her as if she was completely clueless, momentarily forgetting her distress. “No offence Coach, but you obviously don’t know that much about dating.”

Emma smiled wryly. “You may be right. Now, do you think you’re okay to walk up to the nurse’s office with me?”

*****

Emma safely delivered Jane into the custody of the nurse, and was rushing to make it down to the gym for her first period class when she collided with someone coming around a corner in the hallway, knocking the pile of papers they were holding to the ground.

“Miss Swan, I’d have thought you’d learned your lesson by now about running in inappropriate places. Clearly I overestimated your capabilities.”

Emma flinched when she encountered a visibly-annoyed pair of dark eyes, and full lips twisted into a scowl, belonging to exactly the person she didn’t want to see this morning. Great, this was exactly how she was hoping her morning would go. Regina was obviously pissed at her; that vein on her forehead looked like it actually might explode and her voice held none of the undertone of flirtatious banter that had characterised their recent interactions. And, she was back to being Miss Swan.

Emma’s stomach felt like it was doing somersaults. Her instinct to flee was warring with the less survival-oriented part of her that simply craved proximity to Regina. It made no sense; she had been thoroughly rejected last night, and this encounter was simply reinforcing that Regina had no interest in pursuing anything with her. And yet, a small part of her was actually happy to see Regina, happy just to be near her for a moment, even if that sentiment was clearly not reciprocated. Try though she might, she couldn’t clamp down on the pang of want that rippled through her.

Emma crouched down to help pick up the papers, wondering how much worse her luck could get today. She’d hoped that she could avoid Regina for at least a couple of days, until she managed to get her head straight, because she really didn’t have the time or the energy for this right now. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

“Sorry Regina. Bit of a crisis this morning at softball, and now I’m running late for first period. Totally my fault. I should have been paying attention.”

Emma stood up and distractedly thrust the messed-up pile of papers in Regina’s direction, glancing at her watch and wincing at how late it was. After a moment, she noticed that Regina had made no move to take the papers from her, and she looked up. Regina was still glaring at her, fists clenched at her side. Emma finally looked at Regina properly, and took in the matching set of dark circles not quite disguised by cosmetics, the ever-so-slightly less-than-immaculately ironed blouse, the tell-tale hint of redness to the eyes.

It was enough to make her forget her hang-ups for a moment, forget what had happened between them; the thought that Regina might be hurting instinctively making her want to reach out, comfort her. She took a step forward, extending a hand to circle lightly around Regina’s wrist, her voice soft as she spoke. “Hey, Regina. Are you okay?”

For a moment, Regina allowed the contact, the glare relaxing into something more like a tired, confused frown. The sound of the bell for first period broke them out of their moment of tentative connection, and Regina shook off her hand, taking the papers and brushing past her.

“Why wouldn’t I be, Miss Swan?”

Emma stared after her for a moment, not sure what to think, before remembering that she was really, really late for class, and that 14-year-olds could turn incredibly feral in mere minutes if left to their own devices. She broke into a jog again, albeit rather more cautiously this time, making it to the gym five minutes late. Thankfully, no one in the class had been suspended from a basketball hoop by their underpants, or tied up, or subjected to any other number of the infinite variety of evil deeds that 9th graders were capable of dreaming up.

She made it through most of the rest of the day relatively unscathed, eating lunch in her office, and avoiding contact with all of her colleagues as much as possible, including Regina. Her feelings from this morning really had been too confusing, and she knew that the façade that she was trying to maintain was entirely too shaky to stand up to even the slightest bit of scrutiny. She’d particularly made an effort to avoid Ruby, knowing that she would have seen through her in a heartbeat.

At the end of the school day, she timed her walk to the carpark to avoid any chance of running into Regina. On some level, she knew that she was being immature about this; at some point she and Regina would have to talk about what was happening between them, what had almost happened. However, their encounter this morning had made it abundantly clear that Regina was not going to make it easy, and that they probably both needed a bit of time and space to work through things. And, if that approach just happened to fit in with her talent for running away from trouble, then that was just an added bonus.

As it turned out, Emma managed to successfully avoid Regina for just over two days, which she classed as a reasonable achievement. Unfortunately, as much as she would have liked to, she couldn’t skip Thursday afternoon’s staff meeting.

It hadn’t started well; Emma managed to summon up a weak smile in greeting when Regina had walked into the room, as they were waiting for the meeting to commence. Regina eyed her coldly, hardly acknowledging the greeting, before turning to talk to Sidney and August. During the meeting, Regina alternated between glaring at her when she thought Emma wasn’t looking, and ignoring her when Emma was.

Emma tried to focus on whatever Headmistress Lucas was droning on about, but her thoughts inevitably turned to the woman sitting across the table acting as though there was nothing between them, friendship or otherwise. It felt like they’d somehow gone back to the beginning, except back then, it hadn’t really meant anything to her beyond the challenge of trying to integrate at a new school with new colleagues. Now, though, it was everything, and Emma found herself feeling genuinely sad that whatever friendship, whatever intimacy she’d had with Regina was clearly in the past. And, as she examined her feelings further, she realised that she was angry, too. Angry that Regina would treat her this way, angry that Regina would just throw away everything that was between them, without even a word.

Ruby nudged her when they’d stopped for a tea break, whispering, “Gee, what happened? Regina’s really got it in for you at the moment.”

Emma just sunk down into her seat, shooting Ruby a look that she hoped would make it clear that she wasn’t in the mood to discuss things.

After the meeting, Ruby pushed her way into coming home with her, insisting that she had the perfect way of cheering her up. Ruby made a beeline for the pantry and emerged with a third of a bottle of scotch, pouring them both a health measure.

“Emma, where’s your computer?” Ruby frowned as she surveyed the bombsite that was Emma’s living room.

Emma sighed, and excavated the pile of paperwork on the kitchen table to unearth her laptop, setting it up on the coffee table and logging on. “Go for it. I warn you though, cat videos have very little effect on me.”

Ruby pouted at her. “You clearly have no soul; cat videos make the world go round. But that wasn’t what I wanted to show you.”

Emma sipped her drink, watching as Ruby brought up a website. She groaned when she realised what it was. “Ruby, how is looking at RateMyTeachers supposed to cheer me up?”

Ruby grinned at her. “Because you are now the undisputed queen of popularity at Storybrooke Academy. You’re the talk of the staff room at the moment.”

Emma looked at Ruby like she’d grown a second head. “Seriously? People actually pay attention to this stuff?”

“Indeed they do. And there are some very ruffled feathers at the moment. The guys in the IT department actually built some sort of widget to provide instant notification of changes to the league table, so there was quite a bit of talk this week when you dislodged Prince Charming himself, aka David Nolan, from his two year run as most popular teacher.”

Emma’s response was sardonic. “Do I get a sash and a crown? Because if I don’t, I’ll feel like I’ve been cheated” Emma ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “Ruby, I know you’re just trying to cheer me up, but this is really lame.”

Ruby shook her head, pityingly. “Emma, Emma, Emma. Looking at your own ratings is only half the fun. The best bit is reading your colleagues’ ratings.”

Emma looked at Ruby sceptically.

“Seriously, Em, Storybrooke Academy is full of rich, bored, overachieving brats, and some of the stuff they come out with is absolute gold.” Ruby opened up another page. “Come on Em, check this one out.”

Emma rolled her eyes, before scooting forward to look at the page. “Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who’s the creepiest of them all? Sidney Glass, that’s who.” Emma smirked, in spite of herself. “Okay, that’s not bad.”

Ruby laughed. “Sidney is seriously pissed. Since Leroy got the boot, he’s Storybrooke’s least favourite teacher. Okay, here’s another one… August Booth wishes he was J.D. Salinger. He’s not. Pretty good creative writing teacher when he’s not busy dreaming about writing for the New Yorker.”

Emma groaned. “Oh, that is so true. He tried to get me to read one of his short stories once.”

Ruby grinned. “Don’t think you’re special. He tries that with everyone.”

They sat there laughing, gradually making their way through the Scotch and through the ratings, and Emma had to admit she did feel a little better. At least she did until she caught sight of Regina’s name on the site.

Emma sighed wistfully. She hadn’t been planning to say anything to Ruby, but she suddenly found the words spilling out. “I think Regina likes me too. Like really likes me. I think we almost kissed the other night, but then she freaked out and I don’t know why. And instead of talking like adults, I’ve been trying to avoid her, and she’s been freezing me out. I just don’t know where I stand with her.” Emma slumped back into the couch, staring pensively into her drink.

Ruby shut the lid of the laptop and turned to face her. “Emma, I wish I could say that everything will just work out, but I can’t be sure of that. Maybe she’s freaking out because she’s never thought of being with a woman before, maybe it’s because it’s been a long time between drinks. But if you want this, if you want her, _you_ have to go for it, _you_ have to take a chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure this chapter makes up for the long wait, but I promise things will get better soon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. Thanks for the all the encouragement and kind words. As always, you guys are helping keep me motivated.
> 
> For anyone who might have been wondering about Regina's ratings on RateMyTeacher, they're incredibly mixed... Some students think she's the best teacher ever, even though she's super strict, because of her passion for the subject. The slackers hate her because she's got such high standards. And then there's a bunch of ratings that mention how hot she is (Miss Mills is a total TILF; Miss Mills teaches me English, but I'd rather she taught me French, etc.) For the record, Emma really wants to track down the kid who wrote the last one and punch him.

* * *

After Ruby went home, Emma was left dwelling on their earlier conversation. Ultimately, Emma knew that Ruby was right. If she wanted to have any kind of relationship with Regina, even just friendship, she needed to be mature about things and actually talk to her. Regina’s behaviour strongly suggested that she wasn’t likely to make the first move, so the ball was most definitely in Emma’s court. Despite this, she found herself dreading the prospect of a conversation. If she was honest with herself, it was almost certainly because she was afraid of how Regina might respond, afraid of the possibility that this was as far as it went, and that Regina was opting out entirely.

Emma knew that she just wasn’t ready to face this yet, and she felt the familiar urge to get away. If it weren’t for the track meet on Saturday, Emma would have planned to get out of town as soon as school finished on Friday. As it was, she was seriously contemplating driving to Boston for a night out as soon as the meet was over. All of a sudden, Storybrooke was feeling exactly like the small town that it actually was; her desire for anonymity was suddenly overwhelming. She needed time and space to breathe, and she needed to leave behind the sense that her every move was under scrutiny, well-meaning though that scrutiny might be.

It was impossible to go anywhere in Storybrooke without running into someone who knew her or knew of her. A simple trip to the grocery store could turn into an extended expedition, if for example, she ran into Mary Margaret. She’d end up caught up in a conversation about how Mary Margaret’s kindergarten students were going, and how Emma’s track team was going and all sorts of other things. It would also likely lead to a dinner invitation. Or otherwise, one of the townspeople would try to engage her in gossip about anything from the football team to rumours about staff at the school, or they’d want to know more about her background, given how few strangers came to town. What had initially been charming and strangely homely was now starting to feel stifling.

She definitely needed to get out of Storybrooke.

*****

Friday morning, Emma had a spare during second period, which she planned to use to go over her strategy for Saturday’s meet and consider any last minute changes she might need to make to her line-up. After her 8th grade class, she headed back to her office. As she arrived, she was startled by Henry poking his head around the corner, obviously hiding out waiting for her.

“Hey Miss Swan.”

Emma raised an eyebrow and made a big show of looking at her watch. “Hi Henry. Shouldn’t you be in class right now, kid?”

Henry leaned against the wall, scuffing his shoes, refusing to make eye contact.

“Kid, I know that sixth graders don’t get unsupervised spare periods, and you don’t look like you’re dressed for gym class. What’s going on?”

He finally looked up at her. “Mom told me about my parents last night.”

Emma unlocked her office door and motioned for Henry to follow her in. “Okay, kid. Have a seat and talk to me.”

Emma pulled out two chairs, deciding to eschew the usual barrier of her desk in this situation. Henry sat staring at his hands, fidgeting with a loose thread on his sweater. Emma waited for him to be ready to talk; she knew there was no point rushing him or trying to force him to speak.

Finally, he looked up, and Emma’s heart broke a little at the sadness in his eyes. “She said that they’re both dead.” His voice cracked a little as he spoke. “They died in a car accident when I was only a couple of months old.”

“Oh, Henry, I’m so sorry.”

“She didn’t know my father, but she knew my real…” He hesitated for a moment. “She knew my birth mother. Mom said they hadn’t talked in a while, but she found out when they died that my birth mother had listed her as my guardian.”

Henry reached into a pocket, handing her a worn photograph. “Mom gave me this photo of her. She said it’s the only one she had.”

Emma examined the photograph; the subject was a striking woman with auburn hair. “She’s beautiful,” she said, before handing the photo back to Henry.

Henry sighed. “Yeah. I love my Mom, but I kind of wish I’d had a chance to know _her_ as well. It’s weird. It’s like she’s a part of me, but not at the same time, and I don’t really know how I should feel about that.”

“Henry, it’s okay if it takes you a bit of time to figure things out. It’s also okay to feel sad about something like this. You’re not betraying your Mom by feeling like this is a loss. Feeling some sadness or grief about your birth parents doesn’t change your love for your Mom in any way.”

Henry screwed up his face. “I kind of feel guilty about wanting to know more about them. But I also feel kind of angry at Mom for keeping them from me.”

Emma put a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to communicate reassurance. “That’s okay too. She loves you, kid, and that means that she’ll be able to accept that. The love that you two have for each other can handle a few bumps and jolts along the way without being damaged. Just be open with her.”

Henry nodded, and they sat in silence for a moment.

“Henry, have you thought about talking to Dr Hopper? I think he could help you with this.”

Henry looked a bit panicked, and Emma realised that he might have thought that this was a brush-off. “Henry, you can talk to me anytime. I’m always here for you, I promise. It’s just that Dr Hopper knows a lot about how to deal with change and what you can do to make things easier. He’s also a really good listener, and sometimes it can help to bounce ideas off someone who has a bit of distance from your situation. Just have a think about it – no pressure.”

“Okay Miss Swan, I’ll think about it.”

Sitting there across from Henry, Emma was finally struck with the realisation that there was more to all of this than just herself and Regina and whatever might be between them. There was also a sweet, sensitive kid who was wounded and confused, and his feelings and well-being were far more important at that moment than hers. The feelings of frustration and disappointment were not erased entirely, but they were tempered with awareness, and suddenly Emma felt a little bit of shame at her overwhelming self-pity of the past few days and the way that it had stopped her from thinking about how much more complicated things were for Regina.

She was shaken from her moment of reverie by Henry speaking again. “Thanks for letting me talk, Miss Swan. I know I’m supposed to be in class, but I just couldn’t concentrate this morning.”

“Hey kid, it’s no problem. Just don’t make a habit of skipping class.” Emma looked at her watch. “You’ve got about half of second period left. Are you ready to go back to class, or do you want to wait until recess?”

“I’ll go back to class. I’ve got science, and Mom’ll kill me if she finds out I skipped.”

“Okay.” Emma grabbed a slip of paper and scribbled a quick note for Henry to give to his teacher. “Come on kid, I’ll walk you back up.”

As Emma was locking her office, Henry spoke again. “Miss Swan, are you and Mom fighting? I tried to convince her to invite you to dinner again, but she said no.”

She forced a smile. “Henry, there’s a lot going on with you and your Mom at the moment, and I’m sure your Mom is pretty preoccupied with that. I’m sure she doesn’t want the added stress of playing hostess.”

“Yeah, maybe. Just, every time I’ve mentioned you in the past few days she’s gotten this weird look on her face. Like she’s kind of sad, or something.” Henry frowned. “Then she usually snaps at me and tells me to go clean my room, or do my homework.”

“Mmm. I’m sure it’s nothing, kid.”

Emma was distracted by the sight of a man she didn’t recognise lurking near the entrance to the gym, and missed Henry’s response.

Henry obviously noticed her distraction, because he was now looking over towards the gym. “Hey, Miss Swan, who’s that guy over there?”

“Not sure, kid. He looks like he might be lost, so I’m going to see if I can help him out. Do you think you can make your own way up from here?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow, Miss Swan.”

Emma watched Henry walk back for a little while, before making a beeline for the guy she’d seen near the gym. He’d started to walk away, not in any kind of hurry, and she shook her head as she recognised his air of studied innocence as the kind she had cultivated during that period of her teenage years when she’d viewed rules and laws as optional rather than compulsory. She quickened her pace, sizing him up as she approached: mid-thirties, dark hair, leather jacket, the kind of stubble that’s supposed to look careless, but actually takes a lot of work to maintain.

Emma caught up with him. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be down here.”

He looked at her with what Emma could tell was feigned surprise. “Oh, I’m just here for a tour of the school. I’m thinking of moving to the area, and I’m checking out schools for my son.”

Emma raised an eyebrow at the sound of an accent. Definitely not from around here. “It seems like you’re a bit lost then. The school’s pretty big. How about I show you the way up to the administration building, and you can continue your tour?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble. I’m happy to keep wandering around. Maybe you can just point me in the direction of the administration building.”

Emma wasn’t buying his act for a second, but she wasn’t quite sure what his angle was – thief, garden variety pervert, or something else, like a custody situation. Or maybe he was exactly what he said he was. She shook her head. “As a father, I’m sure you can understand that the safety of our students is our number one priority. I know you wouldn’t want to send your son to a school where strangers can just wander around the campus unchecked.”

He grinned rakishly, stepping a little closer, slightly invading her personal space. “Of course. Perhaps you could show me around then.”

She rolled her eyes. He was undeniably attractive – the kind of guy she might have gone home with when she was younger – but she was largely immune to his particular brand of charms these days. “I don't really have the time right now. Like I said, I’ll walk you up to the main office.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble. I’m sure you’ve got classes to get to.” He turned up the wattage on his smile.

Emma pinned him with a stare. “I promise you, it’s absolutely no trouble, Mister… what did you say your name was?”

“Jones. The name’s Killian Jones. Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to help me out.”

He obviously realised that there was no point protesting any further, and followed her up to the office. Ruby looked up and smiled as she entered the office, before quirking an eyebrow at the sight of the stranger trailing behind her.

“Hi Ruby. This is Killian Jones. Apparently, he’s here for a tour of the school. I found him wandering around down near the gym.”

Ruby frowned, looking at her computer screen for a moment. “Oh, of course. I was told to expect you this afternoon, Mr Jones.”

Emma watched as he turned on the charm again, this time directed at Ruby. “Well, I arrived in town ahead of schedule this morning. I’ve heard such good things about Storybrooke Academy that I wanted to come and have a look at the school as soon as possible. I didn’t mean to be any trouble.”

“Of course, Mr Jones. Could you take a seat for a moment, and I’ll see about sorting out your visitor pass and we can get you started on your tour?”

Ruby followed Emma out of the office. “What’s up? You seem less than impressed by him.”

“I don’t know Ruby. Something seems off about him. Just don’t let him out of your sight.”

“Sure. I’ll make sure I personally escort him off the campus at the end of the tour.”

“Thanks Ruby. I’ve got to get to class, but I might see you at lunchtime.” Emma checked her watch; the bell for the end of recess was about to ring. She needed to hurry.

*****

The next two periods went by quickly. At the start of the lunch break, she headed straight up to the school. After her conversation with Henry this morning, she’d realised a few things, and she was determined to seek out Regina.

Regina’s door was open and she was seated at her desk, focusing on some paperwork. Emma paused in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight of her, struck, once again, by just how beautiful she was. At the same time, she couldn’t help but notice the signs of weariness; the faint lines between her brows etched a little deeper than usual, the shadows beneath the eyes clearly visible.

Emma stepped into the office, closing the door behind her. The sound of the door finally alerted Regina to her presence, and she looked up, startled.

“Miss Swan?” Regina’s tone was questioning.

“Hey Regina. I know you’re busy, and I promise this will only take a minute.”

“Fine. What do you want?” Regina leaned forward, elbows on the desk, massaging her eyes.

Emma recognised the signs of a tension headache, and she was itching to walk around to the other side of the desk and help soothe some of that tension, but she knew that Regina was unlikely to react positively. Instead, she focused on the speech that she’d been mentally rehearsing for the past couple of hours.

“Regina, running away when things get difficult has always kind of been my thing, but this time I’m not going anywhere, even if you push me away. At some point, we should talk about the other night, about us, but it can wait. I’m not going to force things.”

Regina continued to look down at the desk, head in her hands as Emma spoke. Emma ploughed on with her speech.

“I know that you’ve got a lot going on at the moment with Henry and I understand that that takes priority over everything else. So, if you need a friend to talk to, I want you to know that I care about you, and I’ll be there if you need me. If you need time and space, I’ll give that to you.”

Regina had finally looked up at her, an unreadable expression on her face. Emma shifted nervously from foot-to-foot, growing more uncomfortable as Regina remained mute.

Emma’s nerve finally broke, and faced with no apparent signs of encouragement she turned and left the office. "Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. If you need me, you know where to find me.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. So sorry about the extended wait between chapters, and that this one is so short - I've been studying around 10 to 12 hours a day for the past few weeks, and I pretty much couldn't bear to look at my computer when I wasn't studying.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kind words and kudos since the last chapter, and apologies for not responding to comments on the last chapter - I've been on a total AO3 ban since I posted the last chapter to keep myself focused on studying. I just got through my mid-semesters, so I took advantage of an incredibly brief respite to finish this chapter.
> 
> To the commenter who asked how long this story would be, I think it will be another five or six chapters - I've got a rough outline of the rest of the story, but I don't always stick to my outlines very well, so we'll see.
> 
> Also, unfortunately I can't promise anything resembling a regular or frequent update schedule - I'm going to be absolutely slammed with study again, with end of semester exams in a few weeks time. It also takes me ages to write anything because I agonise over every word and rewrite things about a hundred times.
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy.

* * *

 

Saturday morning, Emma had woken up bright and early, driving into school to catch the bus with the team to the meet. She’d slept a little better last night, finally succumbing to sheer exhaustion after almost a week of poor quality sleep. Ruby had tried to convince her to go for a drink with the girls at the Rabbit Hole after work, but she’d had no hesitation in using the meet as an excuse.

Although her ongoing situation with Regina had left her in no mood to socialise, particularly not in Storybrooke’s version of a dive bar, truth was that today’s meet was also playing quite heavily on her mind. There was only one more meet in the fall/winter season, with the spring season starting in March. With contracts for the following teaching year set to be finalised early in the second semester, this meet was just about her last chance to impress the school board with her progress in rebuilding the track program. Although it wouldn’t be the only deciding factor in her ongoing employment, she had received the distinct impression that good results would swing things heavily in her favour. She hadn’t actually decided yet whether she wanted to stay in Storybrooke beyond this teaching year, but she would like to at least have the option available to her.

Emma was always full of nervous energy the morning of a meet, and she rushed about making sure that everything was organised. S was glad for the distraction of rounding up students and equipment when she spotted Regina dropping Henry off for the bus, unable to completely clamp down on the pang of longing she felt. A couple of the seniors laughed at her as she jogged past them carrying a bag of cones and suggested that she was more nervous than they were. She grinned ruefully at them and agreed. It didn’t matter whether she was competing or not, there was just something about competition days that made her fidget like a 10-year-old in maths class after mainlining straight sugar.

As it turned out, she needn’t have worried about the team’s performance. After only a couple of months of work, they’d made huge strides, with many continuing to shave time from their personal bests. On the bus on the way to the meet, she’d promised to buy the whole team chocolate bars if they managed to finish sixth or better, and it looked like she was going to have to pay up. At the end of the meet, they’d finished fifth out of ten competing schools, with several individual and relay top three placings.

The mood on the bus on the way home was cheerful, and Emma couldn’t help but get a little caught up in the team’s excitement. Some of the kids had started to learn some of the team songs, not having had much reason to celebrate in past seasons, and they insisted that she join in with them as they worked their way through the repertoire, just in case they managed to win a meet this year. Although they were still quite a way behind the top-ranked schools, the kids were starting to feel optimistic about their ability to compete on an equal footing. Emma knew they would need a couple more years to build a winning platform; however, she was cautiously optimistic a third place finish might not be out of the question towards the end of the spring season.

If Emma was honest with herself, she was quite proud of what she’d managed to accomplish so far. There was a certain satisfaction that came with taking something and building it up from nothing, with knowing that you were doing a good job and knowing that others recognised the work you were doing. However, she also had moments where she wondered whether she should have been back in Boston, maybe not saving the world, but at the very least, making a small difference in the lives of kids who needed it. Kids like she had been, who with a bit of luck and a lot of help, might just stay off the streets or out of prison and fulfil some of the potential that would otherwise go unrealised.

They arrived back at school late in the afternoon, and Emma waited around to make sure all of the day students were collected by their parents. She thought she’d seen off the last of them until she realised that Henry was still there. He walked up to her, clutching his phone in his hand.

“Hey Henry. Your Mom’s not here yet?”

He shook his head. “I just got a message from her, Miss Swan. She’s been held up, and she was wondering if I could stay with you until she finishes up. She said she might be at least another hour.”  

“Sure, kid. Maybe we could go grab a snack at Granny’s while we wait for your Mom. Let her know that she can meet us there to pick you up.”

Emma escorted Henry to her car. She bristled a bit when he looked at it sceptically, unconsciously mirroring the expression that his mother had worn a few weeks ago when she’d first seen Emma drive into the school parking lot in her bright yellow, beat-up Bug.

“Is this thing safe, Miss Swan?”

Emma rolled her eyes. He was definitely Regina’s kid. “You know, kid, the last person who talked smack about The Bug… well, let’s just say that things didn’t end well for him.”

Henry was still eyeing the Bug. “Miss Swan, I’m too young to die. I’ve barely had a chance to live.”

Emma growled at him. “I promise you kid, she runs like a dream. Come on, hop in.”

Henry hopped in, still looking unconvinced, although he was soon distracted by the tape deck. “Miss Swan, what is this thing?”

Emma peered at him, trying to figure out if he was trolling her or genuinely curious. She decided from his beatific expression that it was definitely the former.

“Kid, I was going to buy you a hot chocolate, but now I think I might just hand you over to Granny and get her to put you to work washing dishes.”

He grinned at her, and Emma shook her head, unable to be anything but charmed by him. Teachers weren’t supposed to play favourites, and Emma certainly did her best to treat all of her students equally, but there was just something about Henry Mills that made her waver in the firmness of her convictions.

“You wouldn’t,” he said.

She sighed. “Okay, kid. No one could accuse me of lacking compassion. Hot chocolate first, and then I hand you over to Granny’s tender mercies.”

*****

Ruby was working a shift at the diner when they walked in, and she winked at Emma. “I know that eligible men are a bit thin on the ground in Storybrooke, but don’t you think he’s a bit young for you, Em?”

Emma glared at Ruby. “You are so not getting a tip.”

Ruby laughed and found them a booth to sit in, taking their orders.

They chatted idly about school and the track team, drinking their hot chocolates. As they finished, Regina was still nowhere to be seen.

“You know kid, you were right. These are awesome.” Emma watched as Henry tried to clean every last drop from his mug. “You want another one while we wait?”

Henry’s eyes lit up. “Yes please. But you have to promise not to tell Mom. She’ll be cranky if she thinks I’ve spoiled my dinner.”

Emma laughed. “Okay kid. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Henry suddenly looked pensive. “Miss Swan. That weird guy from yesterday, did you find out who he was?”

Emma frowned. “Apparently he was checking out schools in the area for his son. He was on a tour of the school. Why do you ask?”

“It’s kind of weird. Mom and I went out for ice cream last night, and while I was in the shop deciding what I wanted, I saw him outside talking to Mom, and she looked really angry. Normally we stay and eat our ice cream there, but Mom insisted that we go straight home.”

Their second hot chocolates had just arrived when Emma spotted Regina walking into the diner. Emma waved and Regina gave her a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and she realised that this was the first time Regina had smiled at her since _that_ night. Emma watched her walk over to the booth, noting the tired, pinched look around her eyes.

Emma smiled, trying to inject it with as much warmth and friendliness as possible. “Hi Regina.”

Regina stood by the booth, her body language screaming awkwardness. “Miss Swan. I’m sorry for inconveniencing you like this. I was unavoidably detained, and I didn’t have a chance to make other arrangements.”

Emma shrugged. “No big deal. The kid’s actually pretty good company, and I didn’t have anything better to do.”

“Regardless, I’m grateful for your help.” Regina turned to Henry. “Henry, are you ready to go?”

“Mom, I’ve just started drinking my hot chocolate. Can we stay until I finish?”

Emma watched with some amusement as he pouted a little, and turned big puppy-dog eyes on Regina. His tactic proved successful, as Regina sighed and sat down next to him.

Henry was quiet, engrossed in his hot chocolate. Emma tried to think of something to say to Regina, who seemed to be doing her utmost to avoid making eye-contact with Emma, fidgeting with a napkin. The silence lay heavy and awkward between them, and Emma didn’t know how to break it. Suddenly uncomfortable, she shifted in her seat, stretching out, her leg brushing against what she thought was the table leg, until Regina’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. Emma found herself suddenly unable to move, caught in the direct, unwavering power of Regina’s gaze. She sat there for a moment, wondering at Regina’s unerring talent for scrambling any sense of coherent thought she might have. Somehow, all it took was a pair of deep, liquid eyes and long, dark lashes to transform her into a hopeless, lovesick teenaged mess.

Dimly, she realised that her leg was still pressed against Regina’s, and she started to pull back, pausing when she realised that Regina had stretched her legs out to maintain the contact. A hint of a frown ruffled Regina’s brow, and Emma felt a near overwhelming urge to lean across the table and smooth it away. She stuck her hands firmly in her pockets to remove any chance of temptation.

They sat there, eyes locked, and the faintest sliver of physical contact joining them, while Henry focused on his drink, oblivious to the silent conversation taking place next to him. Emma felt a faint flicker of hope; it felt like a narrow, rickety crossing over what had previously seemed like an unbridgeable chasm.

All too soon it was over. Henry finished his hot chocolate, and Regina’s attention was suddenly focused back on her son.

“Henry, dear. We should be getting home. Say thank you to Miss Swan.”

Regina tried to press some money into Emma’s hand, but she shook her head. “No, my treat.

Henry dutifully parroted his thanks. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, Miss Swan.”

Emma winked at him. “No problems kid.”

Regina slid out of the booth, setting her hands on Henry’s shoulders to steer him towards the door. She paused for a moment, briefly resting a hand on Emma’s arm. “Thank you, Emma.”

She smiled again, and this time it was warm, genuine, like the sun breaking through the clouds, and Emma felt herself melt just a little bit more.

She watched as they walked out of the diner, breath caught in her throat, and the warmth of a blush in her cheeks. She dropped her head into her hands. She was so utterly screwed.

Ruby came by a moment later to give her the cheque, and when Emma looked up, Ruby had slid into the booth and was grinning at her. “Nice work, Princess Charming.”

Emma glared. “Don’t you have some cutlery to polish, or something? Can’t you leave me alone with my torment?”

Ruby laughed, not taking offence. “Come on Em, lighten up. I finish in half an hour; how about we grab a drink after my shift, and you can tell Aunty Ruby all about it?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know I said that there may not be another chapter for a little while, but the muse struck and I managed to get this chapter and part of the next written.
> 
> For some strange reason, working on this was infinitely more appealing than the 5 hours of online Voice Over PowerPoint lectures I was supposed to be watching yesterday.
> 
> I may even get another chapter out by the end of the week, but no promises. :)

* * *

 

True to her word, Ruby had taken Emma out for a drink. Emma had tried a range of excuses: she was tired; she had to water her cactus; her imaginary cat would be expecting dinner; she was three episodes behind in Game of Thrones... None of these incredibly compelling reasons would satisfy Ruby, and eventually Emma conceded that maybe spending another night home alone brooding about her non-relationship with Regina was actually kind of dysfunctional. Instead, she was going to hang out in a dive bar, playing pool and drinking copious quantities of cheap, crappy booze. Totally a healthy way to process her problems.

It was still early, and the Rabbit Hole was quiet. Things wouldn’t pick up until later in the evening, and Emma was sincerely hoping that she would be at home in her pyjamas by the time they did. They scoped out a quiet corner, and Emma sat surveying the mostly empty room moodily until Ruby came back from the bar and deposited a beer in front of her.

Ruby slid into her seat and grinned at Emma. “So that was some serious eye-sex you and Regina had going on at the diner. I thought I was going to have to slap a Parental Advisory Warning label on the edge of the booth.”

Emma scowled and took a swig of her beer. “Ruby, you have a disturbingly fertile imagination. Perhaps you should focus that power on something useful, like inventing a way to stop the chips in the bottom of the bag from getting smashed up, or a way to get the last bit of toothpaste out of the tube.”

“Nice attempt at deflection, but I know good eye-sex when I see it. And that was smouldering. I thought the sprinklers were going to go off and the fire brigade was going to have to pay us a visit.” Ruby paused for a moment, a distant dreamy look suddenly in her eyes. “Do you think next time maybe you could get the fire brigade to visit? Graham’s been working as a volunteer on weekends and I really wouldn’t mind seeing him in that uniform.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Ruby, I will not be lighting any fires, real or metaphorical.”

Ruby was suddenly serious. “I know, Em. It’s just that I look at you and Regina, and I kind of envy that connection you have. I know you’re trying to do the right thing, but if I had that with someone, I’d never let go.”

Emma grimaced. “Sometimes it’s just not that simple.”

Later that evening, Emma was feeling a little blurry around the edges, having been plied with several tequila shots by Ruby who was currently tearing up the dance floor. She frowned in confusion; she was in the process of being hustled at pool by Belle. It made no sense; Belle was a nice, quiet school librarian in a sleepy small town and she was Emma Swan, a reformed juvenile delinquent who had spent more time in pool halls as a teenager than she cared to remember.

She stared at the table, contemplating the near-impossible shot that Belle had just pulled off. She’d generously offered to play by whatever rules Belle was most comfortable with, and now she was legitimately worried that she’d be doing a lap of the bar later without her pants. The first game had been relatively even, but Emma was starting to think that Belle had just been toying with her.

As she was waiting for Belle to take her next shot, she felt a presence at her side. She turned, expecting Ruby and was surprised to see Killian Jones standing beside her. He was wearing what she assumed was his best attempt at a dazzling smile, proffering a drink that she was not particularly inclined to take.

“Fancy running into you here. You know I might just start to think that you’re stalking me. If you wanted to see me that badly, you could have just looked me up at Granny’s Bed & Breakfast.”

Emma sized Killian up, trying to decide if he was crazy, or just an idiot. “In your dreams.”

He grinned at her. “Maybe. You know I didn’t catch your name yesterday.”

“Emma. Not interested.”

“Well, Emma Not Interested. You seem to be in a spot of bother here. I recognise this young lady; I lost my pants last night after she hustled me at this very table.”

There were only two balls left for Belle to sink. As she was leaning over to take her next shot, Killian jostled the table, sending her ball slightly off course. It came to rest just next to the pocket. Belle glared at him.

“Oops. I’m so very clumsy.” He winked at Emma. “Looks like you’re up, love.”

“My hero,” Emma said sarcastically.

Emma took her shot and managed to sink a ball. At least her dignity was somewhat preserved; she wouldn’t be falling victim to Belle’s weird Australian pool rules tonight. She miscued her next shot when Killian edged into her space.

He smiled in a way that was probably supposed to be disarming, but mostly left Emma wanting to jam her pool cue into his more tender areas. “You could repay me for saving you by giving me a tour of the town.”

She shook her head. “What does it take for you to get the message? How about we try this more slowly? I. Am. Not. Interested.”

Belle quickly cleared the rest of the table and Emma took that as a sign that it was definitely time for her to be making an exit. She hugged Belle goodnight, and promised her that next time she wouldn’t be such a walkover, before heading over to see Ruby. Killian had made a move to follow her, but was stopped in his tracks by the pool cue Belle had thrust into his path.

Emma chuckled as she heard Belle telling him off, demanding satisfaction from him after he’d ruined her perfect victory.

She made her escape.

*****

The following week was largely uneventful. She didn’t have much reason to cross paths with Regina, and Killian Jones seemed to have departed Storybrooke. Emma agonised over the decision of whether or not to attend the party at Regina’s house on Saturday, asking Ruby several times a day whether or not she should go and changing her mind every five minutes. Mostly, she worried that her presence there would make Regina uncomfortable. By Thursday, Ruby had declared, exasperated, that she would not spend another minute discussing the party, unless the conversation related to whether to take beer or wine. In the end, it had been Regina who had indicated that she expected to see Emma there, effectively making up Emma’s mind for her.

Emma caught a ride to the party on Saturday afternoon with Ruby, who’d declared that she would be the designated driver that night. They stopped on the way to pick up Archie. When they arrived, Regina met them at the door, leading them through the house to join the party. Emma spotted David Nolan and Mary Margaret, who waved them over to sit down. David grabbed them some drinks from a cooler, and they fell into an easy conversation. Regina, meanwhile, had disappeared off somewhere else.

That proved to be the theme of the evening for Emma. Occasionally, she’d catch a glimpse of Regina, but it always seemed to be from across the other side of the party. At one point, Ruby nudged her, insisting that Regina had been checking her out while she was bent over a cooler, grabbing some more drinks. When Emma looked up, there was no sign of Regina again.

In spite of getting the distinct feeling that Regina was avoiding her, Emma was actually enjoying herself. At one point, she’d fallen into a conversation with Graham, and discovered that she did, in fact, quite like him. In the course of him angling for information about whether Ruby was seeing anyone at the moment, she found out that he was not, and had never been, romantically involved with Regina, improving Emma’s opinion of him immeasurably.

After dinner, she ended up deep in conversation with Kathryn. Emma hadn’t really spent much time with her before tonight, and she discovered that the chemistry teacher was incredibly sweet, and easy to talk to.

Kathryn sipped at a glass of wine. “I never really planned to be a high school teacher. I was going to do a PhD, and I really wanted to get into research and development work, but you know how things go. Best laid plans and all.”

Emma nodded. “I know what you mean. What happened?”

“I met my ex-husband at college and we got married way too young. His father wanted him to take on the family business, and James wasn’t willing to say no, even though David could have stepped up. So I followed him here.”

Emma tried to put the pieces together. “Wait? David Nolan?”

Kathryn nodded. “David is his twin brother. Turns out that Mary Margaret definitely got the better twin. James managed to run the family business into the ground within a couple of years, before running off with another woman.”

“And you stayed?” There was no judgment there, but Emma was curious. In Kathryn’s place she didn’t think she would have stayed.

Kathryn smiled. “Strangely enough, I had grown quite attached to this place, and I found that I actually really enjoyed teaching. What about you? How did you end up on this path?”

“I decided I wanted to go into teaching when I was in high school. I was 16, running around with a guy who was too old for me and getting into a lot of trouble. I was destined for a stint in juvie, or teen pregnancy, or something equally messed up, when I caught the attention of the school track coach. He saw something in me that I’d never realised was there, and showed me that I had options. Even after I moved schools, he stayed in touch and helped me out with scholarship applications.

“I knew I didn’t quite have the talent to make it to the absolute top-tier of competition, but I was good enough to get a full-ride scholarship at a good school, so I decided to make the most of the academic opportunities I had. He showed me the difference that a really great teacher can make, and since then I’ve kind of always wanted to live up to his example.”

Kathryn smiled warmly at her. “I’m glad that you had someone who looked out for you like that.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Ruby who was in the process of rounding up players for a poker game. Kathryn made her excuses, but Ruby pinned Emma with a look that left no room for argument.

Emma trudged over to the kitchen table and sat in the chair Ruby pointed her to. Mary Margaret and David were already there, and Ruby sat down next to her. Emma watched in surprise as Archie cornered Regina in the kitchen and worked on getting her to join the game. Clearly he knew what he was doing, because his appeal to Regina’s competitive streak was rewarded, and she joined the table.

David unsurprisingly crashed out first. He was pretty much an open book, and everyone at the table had his measure within a couple of hands. His attempts at bluffing were laughable, but he took the ribbing of his opponents good-naturedly. He grinned ruefully. “I guess this face just wasn’t made for poker.”

Archie, on the other hand, proved to be a surprisingly astute poker player. He was cautious, but he seemed to have an unerring instinct for when people were bluffing, and he knew when to press his advantage. Mary Margaret seemed to be skating by on a combination of beginner’s luck, and a surprisingly devious streak. Ruby was altogether too impulsive, and Emma suspected she’d follow David out pretty quickly.

Regina seemed to be enjoying the competition, more animated than Emma had seen her in a while, and Emma couldn’t help but focus on her. She wasn’t bad, but somehow Emma could always tell when she was sitting on a good hand, probably due to the ridiculous amount of time Emma had spent studying every nuance of Regina’s facial expressions and body language.

Emma sighed and folded yet again, watching the rest of the play around her with interest. Regina’s eyes were sparkling in a way that Emma knew meant she was pleased with herself. Archie seemed to pick up on it as well and folded, and Emma watched with some amusement as Regina raked in a large pile of Ruby’s and Mary Margaret’s chips. Emma caught Regina’s gaze for a moment, and she felt herself warmed from the inside out by the brief smile that Regina aimed in her direction.

She was normally a very good poker player. Neal had taught her everything he knew during the time they’d been together, and there wasn’t much he hadn’t known about cards and how to win at them. Unfortunately, a combination of dreadful luck and Regina-induced distraction was wreaking havoc with her game.

Emma was down to her last few chips when Mary Margaret yawned and indicated to David that she was ready leave. The rest of the partygoers had long since headed home, and it was only the six of them left. She pushed her pile of chips at Emma and Ruby, both running low, in stark contrast to Regina and Archie. Emma had been planning to go all in on the next hand, but figured she might as well play it out a little longer.

They played a few more hands, Ruby’s pile gradually being whittled away, while Archie’s grew larger and larger. Emma went to the bathroom between hands, pausing briefly to check one of her contact lenses that felt uncomfortably like it had something beneath it.

She got back from the bathroom to discover that Ruby and Archie had made the fastest exit in the history of the universe in the few minutes she’d been away. Emma was getting the distinct feeling that this was a setup, and she resolved to kick Ruby’s ass when she next saw her. She pulled out her phone and sent Ruby a text message, and sat down across the table from Regina, who was fidgeting with her pile of chips.

“I can’t believe Ruby just cleared out like that.”

Regina looked at her and shrugged. “Ruby was developing a migraine; she said that she had to leave straight away before her vision got too bad to drive.”

Emma received a text message a moment later that confirmed what Regina had told her. _Sorry Em, worst migraine ever. Had to go home. TTYL._

“Great. Looks like I’m walking home tonight.”

Regina smiled tightly. “I’d offer to drive you home, but I’ve definitely had too much to drink to get behind the wheel.”

“I know. I wasn’t asking.” Emma sighed. “Can I help you clean up some of the mess before I head off? It’s not fair that you have to deal with all of this by yourself.”

Regina answered by walking into the kitchen and throwing a roll of garbage bags to her.

Emma made her way around the house, clearing away the mess of the past few hours, and collecting random glassware and crockery that she found. She returned to the kitchen, where Regina was stacking the dishwasher.

Regina looked up as she walked in. “Thanks.”

Emma leaned against the counter, watching Regina. She didn’t want to leave, but knew that she probably should. “I should probably get out of your hair. I’m sure you’re keen to get your house back to yourself.”

Regina turned around to face her. “Emma... I’d like it if you’d stay for just a little while. I have some home-made apple cider that’s perfect for drinking now, and I wouldn’t mind having someone here to share it with me.” Regina paused for a moment, her brow furrowed. “I also owe you a conversation, and I’m feeling just about brave enough to do this right now.”

Emma swallowed, trying to clear the sudden tightness in her throat. She wasn’t sure that she was brave enough to hear whatever Regina had to say, but she forced herself to respond. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding the pool thing, I'm not sure if it's just an Australian thing, but bar pool rules state that if you lose a game without sinking any of your own balls, you have to do a lap of the bar without your pants. I've never had to, but I've come frighteningly close on a number of occasions.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so very sorry for the wait. This chapter seriously kicked my arse - there's a whole lot of dialogue, which I always struggle with, as well as quite a bit of exposition. I wrote and rewrote several sections of this chapter about three times, and I'm still not entirely sure that I'm happy with all of it. I'm posting this now, because if I overthink this anymore, it's going to drive me insane. 
> 
> Hopefully the final product is worth it.

* * *

They retired to the lounge, unconsciously imitating their positions of a couple of weeks ago. Regina poured them both a healthy measure of cider, and Emma took a large sip, trying to calm the nerves that were welling up.

“I don’t quite know where to start, but I do owe you some answers.” Regina ran nervous fingers through her hair. “I suppose I should start by acknowledging what is probably quite obvious already; I am attracted to you.”

Emma sucked in a breath. There. It was out. There could be no pretending anymore; this was real. “I feel it too. It’s not something that I was looking for, but it’s also something that I can’t deny.”

“It’s been a while since I was involved with anyone, and the last time I was, it ended badly. His name was Robin, and we were together for almost a year. At the time, I could honestly see myself settling down with him. As it turned out, though, he already had a wife and a child that he hadn’t mentioned.”

Emma frowned. _What a bastard._ “I’m sorry. You deserve so much better than that. He was obviously a fool if he thought he could do better than you, or a greedy fool if he thought you deserved anything less than his full commitment.”

“I can’t take a risk like that again.”

Emma smiled wryly. “Well I can definitely promise that I’m not hiding a wife somewhere.”

Regina shook her head. “It’s not just my heart that I’m worried about, it’s Henry’s. The last time I introduced someone into his life, he was hurt when he left. I need you to understand that Henry is my everything; I would sacrifice anything to ensure his safety and security. So I can’t afford to let him get attached to someone who won’t be around for him in the long run. He already thinks that you hung the moon, and if you became a part of his life in a different capacity, it would absolutely crush him if you left.”

Emma felt an unexpected sense of disappointment, regret about what could have been. She tried to shake it off. She didn’t do relationships, so why should the stillbirth of this potential relationship cause her any pain? It didn’t make sense, but somehow it still hurt.

Emma nodded. “That’s fair. I’m not in a position to make any promises to you or to him; I don’t even know where I’ll be this time next year.”

Regina offered her a tight smile. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Regina, I do want you in my life though, in whatever capacity is possible. If you weren’t, I’d feel like I’ve lost something incredibly precious to me.” Emma bit her lip. “I also need you to know that the way you shut me out over the past couple of weeks really hurt me.”

“I know. I panicked, and I’m sorry about the way that I treated you. If I had my time over, I would not have handled things that way.” She took a long sip of her cider. “I’ve also had a lot of other things on my mind.”

Regina looked so utterly drained, so vulnerable that Emma couldn’t stand it any longer. She moved from the armchair to the opposite end of the couch, curling her feet under her and facing Regina, resting a gentle hand on her knee. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Regina shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Regina, are you in some sort of trouble?” Emma could sense her distress, saw it in the way her eyes tightened at the edges. She wracked her brain and then remembered her conversation with Henry the previous weekend. “Is this something to do with Killian Jones?”

Regina sucked in a breath. “What do you know about Killian Jones?”

Emma frowned. “Not much. I ran into him a couple of times last week; the first time, he was at the school for a tour, the second time he tried to chat me up at the Rabbit Hole. But Henry mentioned that you had some sort of disagreement with him the other night.”

Emma could feel Regina tense up beneath her hand. “Killian Jones cannot be trusted. I would advise you to stay as far away from him as possible.”

“Yeah, he didn’t exactly fill me with warm, fuzzy feelings. I didn’t like the way he was checking out the school; it made me kind of suspicious, to be honest.” Emma frowned. “What’s his deal, anyway?”

Regina was silent for the longest time, and Emma wondered if she was actually going to answer.

She seemed to come to some kind of decision and said, “Killian Jones is my mother’s creature. I don’t know what you’d call him: a fixer, an odd-jobs man maybe. He does my mother’s dirty work.”

“What does he want? Is he threatening you?” Emma was filled with sudden fury at the thought that Regina might be in any kind of danger.

“It seems that my mother has found me, and found out about Henry’s existence.” Regina laughed humourlessly. “I haven’t spoken to my mother in ten years. I thought I was out of her reach, but it seems that it doesn’t matter how far or how fast you run, the past always catches up with you eventually.”

“Your mother… would she do anything to hurt you, to hurt Henry?”

“I honestly don’t know if she would do anything to harm either of us physically. But make no mistake, my mother is a deeply cruel woman and she will do whatever it takes to bring both Henry and I under her control. I suspect that Killian’s presence in town was partly for surveillance, and partly an attempt to intimidate me.”

“God, Regina. That’s terrible. I knew that you had a difficult relationship with your mother, but I didn’t realise that it was this particular variety of bad.”

The muscles in Regina’s jaw visibly worked and flexed, as she tried to keep control of her emotions. “My mother has always wanted power over those around her, and she was always particularly interested in exerting control over those closest to her: her husband, her children. I learned early to make myself small, to be pliable, to try to be the perfect daughter. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t please her, but at least I didn’t suffer the worst of her cruelty.”

Emma could see the whiteness in Regina’s knuckles as she held her empty glass too firmly in her hands, and worried that it would shatter. She gently pried it out of Regina’s hands, took the decanter and poured her another measure of cider.

“Knowing you now, I find it so hard to imagine you as submissive, meek. But I can see that you did what you had to survive. I understand that, I know what it’s like.”

Regina nodded grimly. “I learned to be hard later, to take charge of my life after I ran away. Before that, I was engaged to be married to a would-be Senator twice my age who my mother had chosen for me. I was halfway through a law degree that I had no expectation of ever being able to use, given that my future would have been to smile and simper for the cameras, go to fundraisers with my husband and eventually raise 2.4 polite, boring Republican children.”

“What happened?”

“Henry happened. He’s my older half-sister Zelena’s child. Zelena ran away when she was seventeen, just after my father died. He’d always tried to be something of a buffer between my mother and us, even though he never could quite find the courage to stand up to her. Mother became far worse, and Zelena was never very good at being unobtrusive.”

Regina’s hand shook a little as she took a sip of her drink.

“I saw Zelena a few times secretly after that, but we were out of touch for a couple of years until I was contacted by my father’s old business manager, Mr Gold. Zelena was in hospital after a car accident in a critical condition, while her boyfriend, who was driving, died at the scene. Henry was in a child capsule and survived uninjured. She didn’t want my mother to get her hands on Henry, but she didn’t have many options. When it was clear that Zelena was not going to survive, I agreed to adopt Henry and keep him out of our mother’s reach. Mr Gold made the arrangements and helped me disappear. He was the administrator for a trust that my father had secretly established for Zelena and I, so I was well provided for. I moved around for a bit, before settling in Storybrooke.”

Emma was silent during Regina’s story. She was horrified by the challenges that Regina had had to endure. “Zelena was the woman in the photo you gave Henry?”

“It seems my son has been telling you quite a lot. Yes, that was Zelena.”

“Does he know any of this?”

Regina nodded. “I told him the important details a couple of days after I saw Killian in town. I knew that I couldn’t keep it under wraps for much longer. I did ask him not to talk about this with anyone, and it seems this time he listened to me.”

“He did.” Emma covered Regina’s hand for a moment with her own. “I think you may be the strongest person I’ve ever met, but if there is ever anything I can do to help you, please tell me. I don’t think that you should have to face all of this alone.”

Emma sat back, and drained the last of her cider. As she sat there, she couldn’t quite decide if the warmth flooding her cheeks was from the high-proof alcohol she was drinking, or the way that Regina was peering at her through impossibly long, dark lashes.

“Emma...” The way that Regina said her name was laden with meaning, but Emma couldn’t quite tease it out.

“Emma, I know I have no right to ask this of you, particularly after the way I’ve treated you.” She paused, and a hint of a smile that was more like a grimace crossed her face. “I would like it very much if we could pretend just for tonight that we’re just two people who like each other very much and that the rest of the world, and all the complications that comes along with it, doesn’t exist.”

Regina closed her eyes, and her voice was so soft that Emma almost had to strain to hear it. “I’m just so tired of denying myself happiness.”

Emma waged a silent war against herself. Rationally, she knew that this was a terrible idea; they weren’t strangers who could just go their separate ways. They were friends, of sorts, living in a small town, working in the same school, and there were so many ways that this could get messy. But another part of her loudly insisted that maybe it was best that she got Regina out of her system. After all, that was her normal modus operandi. _Just this once and it would all be better._

But really, she knew that any argument, any logical justification for her actions was futile. Because when Regina looked at her with wide dark eyes brimming with sadness, hope and desire, Emma knew that she would agree to whatever she asked. No matter the consequences.

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

The smile that answered her was brilliant, and Emma was pretty sure that she would slay dragons, or wrestle grizzly bears, or do whatever it took to see it again and again and again.

Emma brought a hand up to trace the lines of high-boned cheeks with her thumb, her fingers trailing along the edge of a strong, proud jaw and down the column of a long slender throat, finally coming to rest in the hollow of Regina’s collarbone. Regina sighed, her eyes fluttering shut, lips slightly parted.

Emma leaned in. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“More than anything.” Regina’s lips quirked up at the corners, and when she met Emma’s gaze directly, she felt a jolt of arousal at the naked heat in Regina’s eyes.

When their lips finally met, it was slow, gentle, sweet, and Emma was lost. The world could have ended around them, and all Emma would have known was the taste of apple cider, the spice of Regina’s perfume, the feel of the delicate hairs at the nape of Regina’s neck tickling her fingertips, and the exquisitely soft, full lips that anchored her in this moment.

Their exploration of each other was slow, languid, with Emma letting Regina dictate the pace. She sensed the change in Regina’s demeanour a split-second before she found herself pressed back against the sofa cushions. Regina’s mouth on hers was suddenly more demanding, more urgent, and hands that had been tangled in her hair, kneading at her scalp were now tracking down her body, seeking the skin where her sweater and her jeans met.

Emma gasped as Regina’s hand moved north again, brushing over her breast through her bra, a thumb lightly trailing across her nipple. Her heart was beating so hard, so fast that she was sure it must be audible to Regina. Her head fell back against the armrest, and Regina’s mouth was suddenly at her neck.

Emma swallowed, speech suddenly seeming incredibly difficult. “Have you ever done this before?” Emma wanted to make sure that Regina was comfortable with this, that they weren’t rushing things too much.

Regina smiled wickedly. “You’ll have to be a little more specific, dear.”

Emma was once again surprised at how quickly Regina could change gears, the vulnerability of a few minutes ago all but gone, replaced with a confidence that Emma found unbelievably sexy.

“So, my dear, are you asking, have I ever had sex? If so, yes.” Regina punctuated her response with a nip to Emma’s earlobe.

In that moment, Emma could only think to herself that English teachers were the worst. The absolute worst. Pedantry at a time like this…

“If you were asking if I’ve ever had sex with a woman, well again, the answer is yes.”

Regina leaned down, pressing herself against Emma, her voice dropping an octave or two as she whispered in her ear, “And if you were asking if I’ve ever had sex with you… well, only about a hundred times in my head, but I don’t think that counts. I do intend to fix that oversight very soon.”

Emma changed her mind. English teachers were so not the worst. She idly wondered if it was possible to die from being so intensely aroused. If it was, she was pretty sure that she wouldn’t live to see the sunrise.

Emma couldn’t quite believe that someone so, so… her thoughts were too scrambled to come even close to devising an adequate description for Regina, and she wasn’t sure that the right words actually existed. She couldn’t quite believe that Regina could actually want her like this, and yet Regina’s want was evident in the slick heat she could feel pressed against her thigh through the thinnest scrap of lace.

“We should take this to my bedroom. I feel like I’m a little too old to have sex on the sofa.”

Emma smiled. “I wouldn’t necessarily say that you’re too old, but I do agree that a bed would be nicer.”

Their progress up the stairs was slow, their eagerness to touch and taste halting them at nearly every step, and Emma wondered if they would actually make it all the way. Emma’s top had been abandoned sometime around the second step. By the time they reached the bedroom, Regina’s blouse was open, hanging loose around her shoulders, her hair was mussed, and Emma was pretty sure she’d never seen anyone or anything so beautiful.

“You are stunning.” Emma wasn’t sure if she’d managed to say the words out loud, or if she’d just whispered them in her mind, but then Regina smiled. Emma slid the blouse off Regina’s shoulders, her hands reverently tracing the smooth plane of her back.

Regina walked her back towards the bed. Emma felt her knees hit the bed, and then she was half-stumbling, half-falling, landing on her back, with Regina straddling her thighs, both of them laughing.

Emma pulled herself up, reaching a hand around to unhook Regina’s bra. Her hands cupped the perfect weight of Regina’s breasts, before she moved to replace one hand with her mouth. Regina arched up into her, her hand fisting in Emma’s hair, and the sound she made as Emma’s tongue traced a path around her nipple, alternating between sucking and feather-light teasing contact… _mmm, just the sound of her_ , Emma was sure would bring her undone.

She pulled Regina down onto the bed and unzipped her skirt, sliding it down over her hips. Her thumbs slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, but Regina held her hands still.

“Mmm… not yet.” Regina reached up and fumbled at the fly of Emma’s jeans. “I love the way you look in these pants, but they absolutely must come off this instant. I want to see you, and feel your skin against mine.”

Regina struggled to work Emma’s pants down her legs. She shook her head. “Do you shop in the children’s section?”

Between them, they eventually managed to get Emma’s jeans off, before they collapsed together on the bed, laughing. Emma kissed smiling lips, before resuming her path down Regina’s torso. She kissed her way down the slight curve of Regina's stomach, and ran her tongue along the skin just above the waistband of her panties, and this time, she didn’t stop Emma from sliding them down her legs.

She trailed her fingers lightly along the inside of slender thighs, teasing, slowly drawing them up until they reached the apex of Regina’s thighs. Emma desperately wanted to take her time, savour this moment as long as possible, but Regina was trembling with need and Emma relented. She traced slick folds with her fingers, before curling her fingers up inside Regina. She used her tongue to form a counterpoint to the rhythm of her fingers, and soon, Regina’s hips were bucking, and her hand was fisted into Emma’s hair, and Emma could feel the rhythmic clenching of muscles around her fingers as Regina climaxed.

She waited a moment, peppering the skin of Regina's inner thighs with gentle kisses, before dipping back down to taste her again. This time she was slow, teasing. She wanted to enjoy every whimper, every moan, wanted to memorise the perfect arc of her throat as she threw her head back. As Emma sucked Regina's clit into her mouth, she felt an absolute certainty that she could live on nothing more than the sound of Regina saying her name, drawn-out, throaty, wanton. She wrung two more orgasms from her, before Regina finally begged her to stop.

Emma slid back up the bed, kissing Regina softly just beneath her ear. She whispered, “You are so beautiful when you come. I could watch you all night.”

Regina traced Emma’s lips with her fingers. Her voice, when she spoke, was deep, husky, and it made Emma’s toes curl. “I think it’s my turn to watch _you_ come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first sex scene I've ever written, and I was super nervous about getting it right. I really hope the scene worked - I'd welcome any constructive criticism about pacing, language, etc.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is likely to be the last chapter of this for about a month - my end of semester exams are looming and writing time is going to be very thin for the next three weeks. Hopefully I'll be able to make up for it in the two weeks of uni break afterwards and finally finish this story.
> 
> Also, I've decided to resurrect the tumblr account I had to set up for a uni subject a while ago (and then promptly abandoned). I'll occasionally be posting ideas, story fragments,and other stuff that isn't substantial enough for AO3. I can't promise that it will be particularly insightful or interesting, but if you do want to check it out, my tumblr user name is helveticabrown

* * *

Emma woke up, briefly disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. The sun was bright, and she looked over at the clock on the nightstand: it was just before nine. They’d fallen asleep still tangled together, Regina with her head nestled into Emma’s shoulder and a leg thrown over Emma’s. They were still in much the same position, and Emma screwed up her nose at the feeling of pins and needles shooting through her arm. She flexed her fingers, trying to work some feeling back into her arm without disturbing Regina.

This was perhaps the first time that Emma had woken up in someone else’s bed without feeling the overwhelming urge to make her escape. She lay there, uncharacteristically savouring the moment. The deep, pleasant ache of well-used muscles. The warm, soft curves nestled into her side. The thrum between her legs in memory of the night before and in anticipation of what might be.

Regina shifted, and Emma took that opportunity to gently extricate herself. She propped herself up on her elbow and made the most of her chance to just _look_ at Regina. In repose, Regina seemed younger, innocent, untroubled. The tension that was a constant presence in her brow was momentarily absent, and there was the sweetest hint of a smile curving her lips.

Emma stayed that way for a while, wanting to commit every detail to memory before the real world intruded. She wanted to trace that smile with her fingertips, glide her hands down ribs and palm breasts that were even more perfect by the light of day. She wanted to dip her tongue in to the hollow of collarbones to taste the skin that she’d discovered was exquisitely sensitive. She wanted to retrace the paths she’d taken as she kissed her way down Regina’s torso, and discover new ones. She wanted to taste the salty-sweetness that was uniquely Regina’s once again and lose herself in the sound of breathy gasps and moans. But she remained still, sensing that when they both were awake the spell would be broken, and they’d be left with nothing but the fallout.

The morning sun eventually came to bathe Regina’s face, and Emma watched as she stirred. Regina blinked sleepily, and Emma smiled down at her.

“Hey.”

“Mmm… how long have you been awake?” Regina’s voice was husky with sleep, and Emma was pretty sure if she could bottle it and sell it, she’d make a fortune.

“A little while.” She reached out and trailed fingertips down the line of Regina’s sternum, through the valley between her breasts, eventually splaying her hand out across the jut of her hipbone. “So do you always wake up looking this gorgeous?”

“I think you might need to get your eyes tested, dear.” Regina ran her fingers through her hair and winced. “I think there might be a family of particularly untidy squirrels nesting in my hair right now.”

Emma peered at her, making a show of searching her hair. “I promise you I can see perfectly, and I don’t see any squirrels.”

Emma started tracing abstract patterns on Regina’s stomach and Regina sighed contentedly.

“What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

Regina groaned and put her hand over Emma’s, halting her explorations. “I can’t believe I slept so late. I’m supposed to pick Henry up from Nick Zimmer’s house in just over half an hour.”

Emma watched as Regina got out of bed and walked towards the en-suite. Moments later, she dodged just in time to avoid being smacked in the face by the towel that Regina had thrown in her direction.

“You can use the shower down the hall.”

“We could always save water and time.”

Regina snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think we’d be saving either. Come on, I need to be out of here in half an hour. I’ll take you home on my way to pick up Henry.”

“I can walk home if that’s easier.”

“This is Storybrooke. Half the town will know by lunch time that you were spotted doing a walk of shame. By this evening, they’ll have all pieced things together and the whole town will know exactly where you walked home from.”

Emma groaned. “Why did I move to a small town?” She shook her head. “God, you’re so right. By next week, there’d probably even be a segment on Good Morning Storybrooke about us.”

“Indeed. And I, for one, prefer that my life is not a source of entertainment for the great, unwashed masses of Storybrooke.”

Emma showered quickly, and tried not to think about having to wear last night’s clothes again. She sat on Regina’s bed, and watched her as she applied her make-up and did her hair. It was strangely intimate, the thought of Regina performing this everyday ritual in front of her.

They made their way downstairs, Emma trailing in Regina’s wake as she made her way briskly through the house. Emma knew that the moment they walked out the door that would be it. They’d be leaving behind this little oasis they had crafted for themselves. As Regina reached for the door knob, Emma came up behind her, catching her hand in her own. Regina tensed against her for a moment, but as Emma pressed a kiss to her jaw, Emma felt and heard her draw a shuddering breath.

“Emma…”

The way that Regina said her name, more of a gasp than actual speech, was too much. Emma released her hand and spun Regina to face her. There was a flicker of what might have been irritation that crossed Regina’s face and Emma wondered if she was pushing things too far.

“Can we...” Emma was cut off as Regina pulled her into a kiss that was heated, needy and desperate. Emma moaned into Regina’s mouth, knotting her fingers into her blouse and pulling her even tighter against her. Regina was the one to eventually pull away, and they stood there breathing heavily, just looking at each other. Emma wanted her so much. Standing here, the morning after the night before, she realised that one night was not enough, and she’d been a fool to think that it would cure her of her attraction to Regina.

“Emma…” This time the tone was different. There was a finality to it, and the look in Regina’s eyes was both sad and resolute.

“I know.”

The short drive to Emma’s place was mostly silent. Emma occasionally glanced over at Regina, who seemed to be intensely focused on the road. They hadn’t really talked about how they would handle things going forward, but the implication had been clear. Once only, no room for negotiation.

They arrived at her house, and Emma hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, what was appropriate. Regina looked over at her, and her expression softened for a moment, the hint of a smile crossing her face.

“Thank you for last night, Emma.” Regina reached over and squeezed her hand, and Emma was amazed at how calm Regina was, how distantly polite this all suddenly felt. The tone, the body language: Regina could just as easily have been thanking her for watering her plants or giving her a ride home from school. Part of her desperately wanted to rebel against this restrained civility, cut through the pretence that everything was okay, that they could so easily reset things and act like nothing significant had happened. She wanted to reach over and grab Regina by the shoulders and yell at her to wake up, to stop pretending. She wanted to press her back into her seat and kiss her until the windows fogged up. But Emma knew that that wasn’t an option.

Emma struggled to maintain a veneer of calm, to keep things on the terms that Regina had set. She offered Regina a tight smile as she opened the door. “See you next week.” She resisted the temptation to look back over her shoulder, to walk back to the car. She took a deep breath and walked up the path to her house.

*****

 _R U at home?_ Emma thought about ignoring the text from Ruby, but quickly realised that it would be futile. Ruby was not so easily deterred. She tapped out a response. _No thanks to you._ A moment later, she received a reply. _I’m coming over. I’ll bring food._

Ruby showed up half an hour later, with a couple of brown paper bags from Granny’s, smiling winningly. “I brought you a burger.”

“Thanks.” Ruby followed her into the living room and took a seat across from her. “So, how’s the migraine?”

“Migraine? Oh, right. You know, dark room, bed rest, Tylenol.” Ruby waved dismissively. “All good now.”

Emma pinned Ruby with a sceptical look. “Ri-ight. I’m amazed that you’re so chipper today, considering that you had such a terrible migraine that you suddenly had to leave in the time it took me to go to the bathroom.”

Ruby grinned, all her teeth on display. “You know how these things go. They come on very suddenly, and leave just as suddenly.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“So when’s the wedding?”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “What wedding would that be?”

“You and Regina.”

Emma pulled a face. “Trust me, there won’t be any wedding bells.”

“Something happened last night, right?”

Emma tried to play it cool. “What makes you say that?”

Ruby smirked. “Well, there’s that hickey that your sweater doesn’t quite cover. Very grown up, I must say.”

Emma’s hand unconsciously gravitated to the mark on her neck. She remembered exactly when it had happened, could all but feel Regina’s hot breath on her collarbone, hear her throaty laughter as she kissed and licked and nipped her way up her neck until she was whispering wonderful, obscene things in Emma’s ear. Emma could feel herself blushing and she wasn’t sure if it was in response to the vividness of this sensory memory, or the way that Ruby was intently scrutinising her.

Emma shifted uncomfortably as Ruby smiled knowingly at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s probably just an insect bite or something.”

“Uh huh. Insects. In November. You know, that’s the exact line I used on Granny when I was fourteen. She grounded me for a week.” Ruby’s smile widened. “Also, a little birdy told me that you were spotted getting out of Regina’s car this morning.”

“Fuck, who told you? Are you in the CIA, or something? How do you even know about this?” Emma panicked. Regina would be seriously unhappy if she found out that they’d become part of the town gossip mill, and she wasn’t particularly pleased about it either.

“Archie saw you when he was out walking Pongo this morning. Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone else and neither will I.”

“Please don’t. Neither of us are interested in being the latest topic of conversation around the town.”

“I promise.” Ruby switched from solemn to playful in an instant. “So, spill. What happened? When are you seeing her next?”

Emma took a bite of her burger, chewing slowly and hoping that Ruby would forget about the question. She swallowed the mouthful of burger and Ruby was still staring at her expectantly. Emma sighed. “I don’t know. We’re not really together.”

“What? Why not?”

“It was a one-time thing.”

Ruby folded her arms. “Emma Swan, you cad. I can’t believe you did that. How does Regina feel about it?”

“It was her idea, actually. And I kind of figured that maybe it would help me get her out of my system.”

Ruby snorted. “You do realise that sleeping with someone is generally a lousy way to get over them.”

Emma closed her eyes. “Now that I’m saying it out loud, I’m realising just how ridiculous it sounds.”

Ruby frowned. “It is ridiculous. Unless, of course, they turn out to be absolutely terrible in bed.” Ruby narrowed her eyes, and looked at Emma appraisingly. “And I’m guessing from your moony-eyed expression that it wasn’t terrible. Am I right?”

“Definitely not terrible.” Emma couldn’t quite suppress the goofy smile that was threatening to take over her face. “Entirely the opposite.”

“So are you okay with this being a one-time thing?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t see a way for it to be anything else. And even if there was a possibility… I haven’t even really dated anyone since I was sixteen. I don’t actually know how to be in a relationship.”

Ruby made an exasperated sound. “Emma, _I’ve never done this before_ is a terrible reason for chickening out of anything.”

“Yeah, I know. But there are plenty of good reasons too.”

“How do you feel about her?”

“I don’t know. Confused. Happy. Miserable. Like I’d take on the whole world if I thought it would make her smile.”

“And that doesn’t make you want to take a chance on her?”

Emma sighed. “It’s not like it would just be the two of us that I’d be screwing up. She has a kid, and I respect her choice to protect him.”

Emma wasn’t keen to continue raking over the ashes of last night. She decided to change the subject to something that she was pretty sure would keep Ruby distracted.

“I don’t really feel like talking about this right now. How about we talk about your love-life now? I had a very interesting conversation with Graham yesterday.”

“Really? What sort of interesting conversation?”

Emma grinned as she saw Ruby’s ears all but prick up. “The kind of interesting conversation where he was pumping me for information about whether you happen to be seeing anyone at the moment.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said that as far as I was aware, you’re single.”

“And what did he say to that?”

“He hinted that he wouldn’t mind knowing if you might be open to the idea of going out with him. I suggested that he should probably ask you himself.” Emma eyed Ruby with interest. “So, if he asks are you going to say yes?”

Ruby sighed. “It’s complicated.”

Emma laughed. “Isn’t it always?”

“Graham and I hooked up a couple of times a few years ago. I’d just come out of a long-term relationship and I wasn’t ready for anything more than that. And now, I don’t know if it’s the right time to start something.”

Emma was surprised. “Why not?”

“I’ve been thinking for a while about spending a couple of years travelling, seeing a bit of the world beyond the _now leaving Storybrooke_ sign. I don’t want to start something that’s doomed before it’s even begun.”

“You really like him though, right?” Ruby had never said as much, but Emma was pretty sure that Ruby’s feelings for Graham ran deeper than she let on.

Her eyes softened. “Yeah, I kinda do.”

“And if you came back to Storybrooke in a few years time and found out he’d moved on, do you think you’d regret the missed opportunity?”

Ruby looked torn. “The future’s a long way away. I don’t know. Maybe.”

“So why not take some of your own advice and take a chance on this? What’s the worst that can happen?” Emma was completely aware of the irony involved with her dispensing this kind of advice, but she didn’t want to see Ruby miss out on a chance for happiness.

“I’ll think about it.”

Emma tried and failed to suppress a yawn and Ruby was suddenly grinning at her again. “Sorry Emma. I really should let you get some rest after the tiring weekend you’ve had. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of sleep to catch up on.”

Emma glared at Ruby, although the effect was somewhat lost when she yawned again. “Shut up.”

She walked Ruby to the door, suddenly very keen to get to bed.

Ruby paused in the doorway. “Hey, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Probably just binge-watching stuff on Netflix. I kind of want to re-watch Orange is the New Black.” After so long by herself, Emma was used to spending holidays alone. It didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as it used to.

“Well cancel that. You’re coming over. Granny always cooks way too much and I need someone to save me from being force-fed like one of those foie gras geese.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Oh, and Emma, you might want to wear a turtleneck to school tomorrow. You know what teenagers are like.”

Emma let her head hit the doorframe with an audible thump. “Go. Leave me be, woman.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm making some headway on this and should have another chapter up by the end of the weekend. In the meantime, hope you enjoy this one.

* * *

Thanksgiving with Ruby, her grandmother and her great-aunt had actually been just the distraction Emma needed. She’d been a little intimidated by the prospect of spending the day with the Headmistress, but she needn’t have worried. Thanksgiving with them had been everything she’d longed for growing up, but never believed she would ever have the opportunity to enjoy. It had been warm and welcoming and comfortable, filled with easy affection and good-natured bickering. Ethel and Eugenia had teased Ruby, telling embarrassing stories of her childhood, while Ruby loudly protested. And later, after a few mulled wines, they’d argued over which James Bond was the best, while she and Ruby watched with baffled amusement. They’d eventually agreed to disagree over Moore and Connery before both anointing Daniel Craig as a worthy successor.

Ruby also hadn’t been exaggerating when she mentioned Granny’s tendency to over-cater. Emma had been sent home weighed down with enough leftovers to last her the week. Having finally made it through all the food she’d been sent home with, she was now at the point where she probably needed to act like a functioning adult and do some grocery shopping. It all seemed like too much effort though, so instead, she’d foraged through her pantry that morning in search of lunch to take to work. She was in the process of enjoying the fruits of her search – a bag of Cheetos, a protein bar that was probably still in-date, and an apple – when Regina walked into the staff room and made a beeline for her.

“I see you’ve branched out to a sixth food group.”

“Hmm?” Emma swallowed a mouthful of the less-than-appetising protein bar and swore to herself that she would actually go grocery shopping this afternoon.

“The apple.”

“Yeah. You know what they say… An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Right now I need all the help I can get with that.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Vic Whale’s been trying to get me to go out with him again, even after the spectacular failure that was our first and only date.”

“I’m not sure that it works that way, dear. Instead of eating the apple, perhaps if you put that incredible throwing arm of yours to use it might deter him.”

Emma grinned. “You’re still talking to me despite my incredible fruit-throwing skills.”

Regina pursed her lips, clearly trying to suppress a smile. “Against my better judgement.”

Regina opened her lunch and Emma peered at it. “What is that?”

“Kale salad.”

Emma pulled a face. “Kale. Gross. That’s not even food; it’s just a gigantic practical joke that some evil, sadistic person is playing on everyone.”

“It’s healthy, and I happen to like it.” Regina frowned. “Perhaps you should try some; you’re almost certainly going to die at an early age from an overdose of trans-fats and artificial colours and flavours.”

Emma shook her head. “No way. All these preservatives keep me looking young. I may look like I’m in my twenties, but really I’m sixty.”

Regina’s eyes twinkled as she spoke. “So you’re actually sixty, you look like you’re twenty-eight and you act like you’re eight.”

“Pretty much.” She held out the bag of Cheetos. “Want some?”

“I’ll do you a deal, Emma. I’ll try one of those dreadful orange things if you try some kale salad.”

“No deal. You’d be getting delicious, cheesy goodness and I’d be getting shrubbery.”

Regina shrugged. “Well, I tried.”

They finished their lunch, and as Regina got up to leave, she paused. “You know, I am genuinely worried that my son’s favourite teacher is going to die of scurvy. If you’re free tomorrow night, perhaps I could cook something nutritious that doesn’t actually taste healthy.”

Emma assumed a fake wounded expression. “You can mock me all you wish, and because I have absolutely no shame when it comes to your cooking, I will absolutely be there.”

Regina smirked. “I do have some recipes with sneaky vegetables from when Henry was little. Maybe I’ll make one of those.”

“This is me saying goodbye to what little dignity I had left. What time should I come round?”

“Is six thirty good for you?”

“Perfect.”

Emma watched Regina walk out and shook her head, more confused than she’d ever been. She really didn’t know quite what to make of her. At first, Emma had been dreading the fallout of their night together, worried that Regina would freeze her out again. And for the first couple of days, Regina had maintained the same air of distant politeness she’d summoned as they’d said their goodbyes in the car. Not frosty exactly, but certainly nothing in her behaviour could be mistaken for warm. But something seemed to have shifted for her since the weekend and there was an ease and a friendliness there that Emma couldn’t quite remember having previously experienced. They’d shared a few moments like that, _before_ , but they’d always been brief, always quickly overtaken by some misunderstanding, some drama rearing its head.

Emma tried to enjoy it for what it was; they were friends, just as she’d implied she would be satisfied with. Sometimes though, sometimes that really didn’t feel like it was enough. But Regina seemed to be entirely comfortable with the way things were and Emma didn’t want to rock the boat out of fear of damaging what they did have.

A couple of teachers from the history department were gossiping in another corner of the staff room, and as Emma walked towards the door she overheard part of their conversation.

“Swan and the Evil Queen are looking awfully friendly these days. Wonder what kind of blackmail material Swan has on her.”

Emma stopped and turned to face them. She had to fight down the urge to go down in a blaze of glory, defending Regina’s honour, reminding herself that she did have to maintain some sort of professional reputation. But she also couldn’t let it go completely unchallenged. “Please don’t call her that; it’s disrespectful. And if you want to know something about me, ask rather than speculating. And maybe learn to whisper properly.”

She didn’t wait for a response, but she could hear them sniggering as she walked out of the room. “ _Looks like Sidney’s got competition as chief minion. Wonder if he knows he’s been replaced.”_

*****

“Thank you for coming to dinner. You saved me from a fate worse than death, or at least granted me a stay of execution until tomorrow.”

Emma quirked an eyebrow. “Fate worse than death?”

Regina gestured at a pile of papers on the table. “Marking 11th grade poetry assignments. I have sixty of them to grade by the end of the weekend, and there really is nothing quite as terrible as bad adolescent poetry.”

“So do you mark the good ones first or last, or do you just do them randomly?”

“Definitely last. I need something to look forward to as a reminder that it’s all worth it.” Regina scrunched up her nose. “I have this nightmare sometimes that I have a marking pile that keeps growing twice as fast as I can get through it and eventually it collapses on me and I die buried beneath a pile of ungraded papers.”

“Wow, that’s dark. I’m glad that I generally don’t have papers to grade.”

“You should definitely count your blessings.” She grimaced. “I tend to have that nightmare a lot more often when I’m marking poetry assignments. I’ll probably have it tonight.”

“Are they really that bad?”

Regina sighed wearily. “Worse than you can imagine. No matter how many times I tell them that poems don’t always have to rhyme, at least half of the students find new and interesting ways to twist and torture the English language just so they can make sure it rhymes.”

“You’re the head of English, so why don’t you cut the poetry writing assignment out of the curriculum? It’d be a win-win situation.” Emma had hated almost every aspect of poetry when she’d been at school and would have been more than happy to see it banished from the classroom.

“If only.” Regina sipped her wine before continuing. “Schools get some discretion around the texts we teach and how we approach them, but there are certain elements of the curriculum that we have no choice about. This is one of them. If I had my way, it wouldn’t be an assessable component of the course. Grading something so subjective and personal is difficult and it’s even more challenging because you need to be critical in a way that isn’t discouraging.”

“Yeah, I get that. Teaching gym is tricky. I can be working with the most unfit, uncoordinated student and I’ve got to find a way to get them motivated and engaged, because keeping kids involved in sport is really important. And sometimes, I’ve got to spend my time undoing all the damage that some sadistic bastard who shouldn’t be let near kids has spent years developing.” Emma shook her head. “I don’t know why some people get into teaching.”

“Neither do I.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Emma found herself slipping away from the here and now and into a realm of possibility. Henry had gone to bed, and they were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa in the living room making steady inroads on a bottle of wine. It was cosy, domestic, and so many other things that Emma had never expected to want with someone, but now found herself craving with Regina.

One dinner had turned into twice-weekly dinners over the past couple of weeks and, with very little effort, Emma could imagine a stretch of evenings just like this one sharing the tiny details of their days. Evenings where Regina would be curled up on the sofa, wearing a hint of a frown as she graded papers, and Emma would walk in, pour her a glass of wine and then draw her feet into her lap and soothe the tensions of the day away with sure fingers. And sometimes, Regina would fall asleep with her feet in Emma’s lap and Emma would be torn between waking her up and letting her sleep. And eventually, she’d wake Regina with gentle kisses and lead her upstairs, and they’d tumble into bed together. And Emma wouldn’t even mind when Regina hogged the covers or rubbed cold feet against her legs.

It was a fantasy, but there were moments when it felt like it could almost be real, moments like this when Regina forgot herself and gazed at her over her wine glass with soft eyes and a softer smile and Emma could feel herself just _melt_. Moments when Emma allowed herself to briefly entertain a glimmer of hope that this thing between them was something more than it was supposed to be and feelings that she wasn’t quite ready to put a name to welled up and threatened to spill out.

To cover up her distraction, Emma picked up an assignment from the pile and flicked through it. She winced as she read a couple of the poems. “I see what you mean about the tortured rhyme.”

She picked up another assignment and frowned as she read. “Is this one about you?” Her eyebrows shot up as she kept reading. “Chocolate eyes? A voice like honey bourbon?” She looked up at Regina. “It’s kind of disturbing how many food metaphors there are in this poem.”

Regina groaned and snatched the paper from Emma’s hand. “Damn. I was hoping that this would be the year that I finally stopped getting poems about me.”

Emma laughed. “So you get a lot of poems admiring your resplendent beauty from afar?”

“It’s not funny, it’s just awkward. And yes, I get more than enough.” Regina poured herself another glass of wine. “Most of the time there’s enough plausible deniability that I can just pretend that I missed the meaning. Sometimes they’re a little more blatant and sometimes they cross the line completely.”

“How bad are we talking?”

“A couple of years ago I had a student who wrote a limerick that rhymed my name with a certain part of the female anatomy.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious? That is so far out of line.”

Regina nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. The most disappointing thing was that he was one of my best students.”

“What happened?”

“He had detentions for a whole term and I made him write a 3000-word essay on sexual harassment. The school administration is generally very good about protecting staff; normally he would have been suspended. But his parents were in the middle of a very messy divorce and he’d always been such a good student, so I argued for some leniency in his punishment.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it’s completely different from my last school.” Emma smiled ruefully. “I had pretty much every rude word you’ve ever heard of directed at me and probably several that you haven’t. I have pretty thick skin, but there were a few nights I went home and cried into a glass of wine.”

“So Storybrooke must be a nice change?”

Emma shrugged. “A lot of the time, it was like pushing shit uphill. Everything was under-resourced, and maybe three-quarters of the kids didn’t want to be there and were hell-bent on making sure that no one could actually be happy to be there. And it really pissed me off, because I was exactly like those kids until someone helped me see that I had other options.”

Emma stared pensively into her glass of wine, before continuing. “But sometimes, sometimes one of the kids I was working with would find a way to get themselves on track and knowing I’d played a role in that was really special.” She looked up at Regina. “I miss that sometimes. I miss feeling like what I’m doing is actually making a difference.”

“So why did you come to Storybrooke?”

Emma laughed humourlessly. “You’ve seen the scar just above my hip, right?” She hadn’t told anyone this story, wanting a clean start; only the Headmistress knew. But Regina had trusted her with secrets and Emma realised that she felt secure enough to trust Regina with this.

Regina nodded. “I didn’t want to ask at the time.” Her lips quirked with just a hint of a smile. “We weren’t quite at the point of comparing scars.”

“Well, I intervened in a fight at school that one of the students just happened to bring a knife to. I got that lovely scar, a couple of months of leave and mandatory counselling.” She grimaced. “And then I just barely managed to finish out the semester without completely falling apart. I needed to get away and get my head right again.” She summoned a falsely bright smile. “And that is how I ended up leaving the big city for sleepy little Storybrooke.”

Regina had shifted closer as Emma spoke. “And are you okay now?”

Emma looked down at Regina’s hand resting on her knee, tracing soothing circles with her thumb. She met Regina’s eyes and smiled tightly. “I am,” she said, and found that she really meant it. “Fixing the notoriously terrible Storybrooke track team was just the project I needed to distract me.” She paused. “And I’ve found other things here that have helped me find my way again.”

“I’m glad you found your way here.” The smile that crept across Regina’s face was heart-stopping, and Emma felt it warm her from the inside out. “And you have made a difference here, you know. The last few months would have been much harder for Henry without you to talk to.”

“How’s he doing now?”

“I think things are getting better. Some days, it feels like he resents me, but then other days, he’s just my sweet little boy again and it feels like things are back to the way they were.” Regina sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “I can’t keep up. I deal with moody adolescents for a living, but it’s so much harder when it’s your own moody adolescent.”

“It’ll get better. With big changes like this, it just takes kids a bit of time to adjust and find their place in the world again. And it’s better now that he knows the details, so he’s not left to imagine things and fill in the blanks by himself.”

“I hope so.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, and Emma finished the last of her wine. “I should probably head off and let you get some sleep so that you’re fresh and ready to tackle those poetry assignments tomorrow.”

Regina groaned. “I wish you hadn’t reminded me. Now I’ll definitely have the nightmare.”

“Sorry.” Emma grinned, not at all repentant.

Regina raised her eyebrows and looked at Emma as though she was a recalcitrant child. “No, you’re not, but I’ll forgive you anyway. And because I am a generous soul, I’ll make up the spare bedroom and you can stay here tonight.”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Emma, you’re staying here tonight. It’s late and it’s freezing outside and I’d rather not have to worry about you getting home safely.”

Emma smiled. “I am a big girl, you know.”

“I know, but humour me.” Regina’s gaze caught hers and it was intense, serious.

“Okay.” Emma gave Regina a knowing look, defusing the momentary tension. “I get what this is about. You just want someone here to rescue you in case you get buried under a pile of English papers in the middle of the night.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Absolutely. Now come upstairs and I’ll find you a pair of pajamas.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in less than a week... it's a miracle. Hope you enjoy this one.

* * *

Regina had invited Emma to spend Christmas Day with herself and Henry and so here she was loitering in the kitchen with Henry, conspiring to steal some cookies that had just come out of the oven.

Henry whispered to her, “I have a plan. It's called Operation Trojan Horse. I'll distract Mom and you grab the cookies.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m only doing this if we split the spoils 60-40 in my favour. Seems like I’d be the one taking the greatest risk in this scenario.”

He frowned. “But I’m the criminal mastermind and you’re the minion doing my bidding. It should be 80-20 to me.”

“No way, kid. You’re kidding yourself if you think I’m going to put myself directly in the firing line for a mere 20 percent cut. Find yourself some other patsy.” Emma folded her arms.

Henry pleaded with her. “But they’re amazing cookies, best you’ve ever tasted. Can’t you smell them? 20 percent of those cookies would be worth it.”

Emma shook her head. “Uh-uh, kid. I wasn’t born yesterday.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “Come on, you’re going to have to do much better than that.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Swan. My final offer is 50-50.”

Emma eyed him for a moment, weighing up her chances of driving the bid back up in her favour. But the smell of those cookies was short-circuiting her negotiating skills. “Fine. I don’t like it, but I’ll take your deal. Let’s shake on it.” She extended her hand to Henry.

Henry sidled up to his mother and started asking her questions about random ingredients and utensils that were out on the bench.

“I’m glad you’re taking an interest in cooking, Henry. I’d hate for you to subsist on a diet of Easy Mac and take-out when you’re grown up, like Emma does.” Regina looked over at Emma who was doing her best to lean casually and non-suspiciously against a bench.

When Henry finally managed to get Regina to turn away from the cookies, Emma sprung into action, moving stealthily around the edges of the kitchen, staying out of Regina’s peripheral vision. The skills she’d learnt during her misspent youth came flooding back. _Just like riding a bike._ She tip-toed carefully as she approached the target, waiting for the right moment. _There._ As she went for the cookies, Regina reached over and smacked her hand lightly with the spatula she was holding and then turned to glare at Henry.

“Out! Both of you. Go build a snowman or something and let me finish cooking.”

Emma took advantage of Regina’s momentary focus on Henry to snatch a handful of cookies. She bit back a curse as the still-hot cookies burned her fingers. She was just about to make a break for it when she felt Regina grip her shoulder and spin her around. She’d been caught red-handed. Literally.

“Not so fast, dear. I’m a teacher _and_ a mother; I have 360-degree vision and I can hear a note being passed under a desk at twenty paces. What made you think that this plan would be a success?” Regina’s smile was mildly terrifying; all of her teeth were on display, like an alligator sizing up her lunch.

Emma suppressed a shiver and cast a quick glance in Henry’s direction, or where he had been a moment ago; the little traitor had taken advantage of her capture and split. She was definitely in for it. Regina took a step in and Emma unconsciously stepped back. She continued to advance on Emma, gesturing with her spatula, until she had Emma backed up against the island bench.

“Well, dear, I’m waiting.”

“Uhh…” A residual element of a youthful fear of being caught getting into mischief, combined with a healthy dose of arousal at Regina’s sudden proximity, had left Emma completely tongue-tied.

“Shame on you. Stealing my cookies, leading my son astray.” Regina pursed her lips and looked at Emma with disapproval.

Emma finally found her words. “To be fair, it was totally his idea.”

Regina shook her head. “Unbelievable.” She leaned in and whispered in Emma’s ear. “Now what am I going to do with you?”

Emma suppressed a shiver of an entirely different kind and bit her lip; Regina was playing dirty, and it wasn’t fair. But two could play at this game. “I can think of a few things…” She held Regina’s gaze and trailed her fingers lightly up her arm.

There was a huskiness to Regina’s voice as she spoke and it was playing havoc with Emma’s already thinly stretched self-control. “So can I.” She stepped back and Emma immediately missed the nearness of her. “I was thinking that for once, you could cook me dinner.” Regina smirked and folded her arms.

Emma screwed up her face. “That sounds more like punishment for you than for me, unless you really like omelettes, which are pretty much the only thing I can cook that’s not from a box. Maybe I could cook you breakfast instead?”

Regina shook her head. “Tempting, but no. You _will_ learn to cook something and you’ll make it for me. Don’t worry, I’ll give you time to learn and I’ll even let you borrow some cook books if you’d like.”

Emma sighed. “Alright. But can I keep the cookies?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Go on, get out of here before I change my mind.” Regina swatted Emma’s backside with the spatula as she turned to leave.

Emma looked back over her shoulder and winked saucily at Regina. “Now you’re just making me want to stay.”

“Out!”

She fled, laughing, before composing herself as she joined Henry in the yard.

“Can’t believe you left me holding the bag, kid. After all we’ve been through together,” Emma grumbled at Henry, who was grinning at her.

“Well, did you bring the loot?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses.” She handed over two cookies and Henry immediately started scoffing them.

“So how’d you get out of there alive _and_ with the cookies? I thought you were done for.” He had the good grace to look a little sheepish as he said that.

“So did I, kid. So did I. And trust me, you don’t want to know what I had to do to escape.” She bit into one of the cookies. “But oh my god, so worth it,” she mumbled around a mouthful of what was quite possibly the best cookie she had ever tasted.

*****

Building a snowman had very quickly devolved into a snowball fight. Emma brushed some snow off, laughing. She threw her hands up in surrender. “Come on kid, I’m freezing. Maybe your Mom will take pity on us and let us make hot chocolate.”

She traipsed inside, with Henry trailing a few steps behind her, making a beeline for the kitchen. Walking through the house, she called out, “Regina, that kid of yours is a demon. He dumped a handful of snow down the back of my jacket.”

As she walked through the kitchen doorway, she caught sight of Regina who was leaning against the bench, holding it with a white-knuckled grip, a stricken look on her face. Then she noticed the older woman standing off to the side.

“I’m disappointed, Regina. I thought we’d cured you of this little phase, but apparently I was mistaken and you’re still indulging in these unnatural lifestyle choices.”

For a moment, Emma thought Regina was looking at her, but she realised that Regina was looking past her, at Henry. Then she looked at Emma, with a silent entreaty in her eyes. Emma was torn; she wanted to stay to protect Regina, but she understood what she was asking and knew how much she would want to shield Henry from this ugliness.

“Henry and I were just going to head down to the main street for a little while to check out the decorations and try out his new skates on the ice rink.”

“Yes. I think that would be a good idea.” Emma could hear the strain in Regina’s voice.

Emma turned to Henry. “Kid, go get your skates and wait by the front door.”

“Well I was thinking that we might all get to know one another a little better.” She turned to Regina. “Perhaps you’d like to start by introducing me to your _friend_. I would like to know just who it is you’re inviting into my grandson’s life.”

Henry still hadn’t moved and Emma turned and hissed at him, “Kid, go. Please.”

“Mother, this is Emma. Emma, this is my mother, Cora Mills.”

Cora pursed her lips. “I didn’t realise that Emma was so famous that she only goes by one name like Cher or Madonna. Should I know her from somewhere? Clearly you’ve forgotten your manners in the time you’ve been out in this backwater. Perhaps you could introduce us properly?”

Emma could see the muscles working in Regina’s jaw and her fingers rhythmically clenching and unclenching on the edge of the kitchen bench. Emma summoned up her best smile and walked over to Cora, extending her hand. “I’m Emma Swan. Regina and I are colleagues and I coach Henry on the track team. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Cora looked at the hand Emma had offered as if it was something particularly disgusting, like a dead rodent, before ignoring it. “Well, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, Miss Swan.” Somehow, she made it sound like a threat. She offered Emma a sickly smile, before gliding past her to where Henry was standing in the doorway, holding his skates.

Cora took Henry’s hand in her own and smiled, suddenly managing to appear warm and sincere. “Hello Henry, I’m your grandmother. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for so long. I’m sorry that your mother has kept us apart for so many years.”

“Hi… Grandma.” He stumbled over the unfamiliar word, and Emma watched as he looked to Regina searching for some sort of guidance.

“Mother, Henry has been looking forward to trying his skates all morning. I still have a lot of cooking to do and you and I have a lot to discuss. Let them go and I promise you’ll get to spend time with Henry in a little while.”

*****

“My… my grandmother. She’s not a very nice person, is she?” They were sitting on a bench next to the ice rink and Henry was putting on his skates.

“I don’t have a lot to go on, but she didn’t give a very good first impression, did she?” Emma was incredibly conscious of the need to tread lightly; it wasn’t her place to interfere in this relationship.

“Do you think that’s why Mom hid things from me?”

“That’s probably part of it, but that’s something you should talk about with her.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He frowned. “What she said back there, she was saying that my Mom is gay, right? That she likes other women?”

This conversation was definitely heading into dangerous territory and Emma thought for a moment about how to respond. “I think she may have been implying that.”

“Is she?”

“Kid, that’s definitely something you need to talk to your Mom about. It’s not a question I can answer.”

“Are you gay?”

Emma sighed. She really didn’t want to have this discussion with Henry, but she also didn’t feel like it was right to lie about it to him. “I’ve been romantically involved with men and women before. So if I had to label myself, I guess I’d say I’m bisexual.”

“Oh.” Emma could see the cogs turning in his head. “Are you in the closet? Is that why I didn’t know about it before?”

“I’m not ashamed of who I am, Henry, and I don’t try to hide it, but it is complicated. Not everyone is accepting of difference, and I’m a teacher, so I’m just very careful who I discuss it with.” She offered him a tight smile. “And, I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us and didn’t talk about it with the kids at school.”

“Of course. I just want you to know that I’m okay with it.” He scrutinised her intently. “Are you and Mom dating?”

Even if it wasn’t completely inappropriate for her to be having this conversation with Henry, Emma wasn’t actually sure she knew how to answer his question. They weren’t calling what they were doing _dating_ , but friendship didn’t really seem to capture the dynamic between herself and Regina. Friendship certainly didn’t describe the physical response she had to even the most casual contact. It didn’t describe goodbye hugs at the end of late evenings that left Emma aching. It didn’t describe occasional unguarded looks that spoke of desire and longing and all the things they couldn’t put into words.

“Henry, we are not having this conversation.”

“Do you like her?”

“Henry…” Emma summoned her best teacher voice, her tone warning that there _would_ be consequences.

“It’s just…” He hesitated. “It’s just that I wouldn’t hate it if you _were_ dating my Mom.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Go try out those skates, kid. This conversation is closed.”

She shook her head as he skated off. This was one hell of a mess and it just kept getting more complicated. She watched him skate for a while, waving him over when she received a text message from Regina letting her know that it was safe to return.

They drove back in silence and when they arrived back at 108 Mifflin, Emma noticed that Cora’s car was still outside. Emma lingered just inside the front door until Regina understood that she wanted to speak to her privately. They stepped out onto the front porch.

“Is your mother staying for lunch?”

“She is. I promised to let her spend some time with Henry.”

Emma could see the tension in Regina’s shoulders and she wanted more than anything to help soothe it away. “I can go if you want me to.”

“Emma…” Regina’s voice was soft and Emma could see the warring emotions on her face. “You don’t have to do that. I invited you over because I wanted to spend the day with you.”

“I know.” Emma ran her hands through her hair and her brow furrowed despite her attempts to maintain her composure. She was disappointed, but on the scale of things, that really wasn’t the most important issue. “I’m just worried that me being here will make a difficult situation worse. After this morning’s performance, I can’t imagine your mother will resist the urge to make snide remarks about us. And Henry understood exactly what she was talking about.”

Regina sighed. “You’re right, she won’t be able to resist.” She smiled gratefully and pulled Emma into a quick hug. “Thank you for understanding.”

Emma relaxed, confident that she’d made the right decision. She murmured into Regina’s ear, “Call me later. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

They broke apart and Regina nodded. “Merry Christmas, Emma.”

“Merry Christmas.”

*****

It was after nine when Emma’s phone rung. She’d sent a couple of texts without responses earlier in the evening and had grown progressively more fidgety as the night had gone on. She had just been debating whether she should call or drive by and check in, and when she finally spoke to Regina, she found her keys and started the car before she even ended the call.

Regina answered the door, and she looked even more defeated than she had sounded on the phone. Emma’s heart ached for her. She’d seen Regina looking vulnerable before, but never quite like this. Emma followed Regina into the living room and they took their customary positions at either end of the sofa.

“Today was…”

Regina broke off, unable to continue, and Emma could see the faint tremor of her chin and the brightness of her eyes. Emma reached out and laid a hand on Regina’s arm.

“Don’t touch me.” Her voice was harsh as she shrugged off Emma’s hand and turned away.

Emma could feel a mix of fury and helplessness churning her stomach. She hated seeing Regina like this and wanted nothing more than to track down Cora Mills and force her to apologise for a lifetime of hurt. “I’m sorry. I just want to help ease some of the pain of today. I know it can’t have been easy.”

“I don’t need help.”

Emma could see the muscles of Regina’s throat working and her hands were clenched into fists. Emma closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself before she spoke again. “I know. You’re so strong. But accepting comfort, wanting to be comforted, doesn’t mean you’re weak. I don’t think you’re weak, I’m just offering you my strength to add to yours.” Emma leaned back and fixed her eyes on the fireplace, willing to give Regina all the time she needed.

After long moments, Regina finally turned to face her again. Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she moved towards Emma and asked, “Will you hold me?”

“Of course. As long as you want me to.” She enclosed Regina in her arms, smoothing gentle circles on her back with her hands, and her shirt was soon wet with tears. Finally, Regina’s sobs began to subside and she began to shift in Emma’s arms.

Regina sat back and looked at Emma. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She walked over to pick up a box of Kleenex from a side-table and offered them to Regina.

Regina took them and started to dab at her eyes. “I must look a mess.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Liar.” The corners of her mouth twitched slightly, not quite enough to be classified as a smile. She sighed. “I’m a grown woman with an eleven-year-old son. I’m professionally accomplished and more than a few people find me intimidating. And yet, within moments, Mother can make me feel like a child who just failed a math test, broke a priceless vase and embarrassed her in front of the Governor’s wife all on the same day.”

“Have you ever done any of those things? Somehow, I can’t see you ever failing a math test.”

This time, Regina did manage a smile, albeit a somewhat watery one. “The last one, yes. I was six, and I cried when she tried to hug me and told Mother she smelled funny.” The smile faded. “Mother was furious; she gave my pet cat away as a punishment.”

“Every time you tell me something new about your mother, I like her even less.”

“That’s not even the worst of it. As long as I can remember she’s been doing things like that to control me.” She massaged her temples, wincing.

“I can see you’re in pain, and I’m not surprised.” Emma patted the patch of the sofa in front of her. “Come on, scoot around and I’ll give you a massage.”

Regina eyed her sceptically, and Emma tilted her head and smiled, holding her hands out. “No funny business, I promise.” Regina finally agreed, and Emma felt her sigh as she started to work at her shoulders. She was right; Regina’s muscles were like stone.

After a while, Regina spoke again. “When I was nine, she fired the nanny who’d raised me from the time I was a baby, because she heard me speaking Spanish. She didn’t want me to connect with that part of my heritage because she thought it would interfere with her plans for me. I cried every night for months.”

Emma continued to work in silence as Regina spoke, sensing her need to get this out of her system.

“When I was fifteen I fell for the son of one of the grooms at the riding school. His name was Daniel. When Mother found out, she sold my horse and refused to let me continue taking riding lessons. But we were in love, in the way that only teenagers can be, and I secretly kept seeing him. It was the first time in years I’d defied her in any real way and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her angrier. Somehow, she managed to get Daniel’s father fired; they moved away and I never saw him again.

“When I was in my first year of college, I started dating a girl. Mother said she would cut off all financial support if I didn’t stop seeing Mal. I was going to tell her to go ahead and do it, but Mal wouldn’t let me. Then Mal stopped talking to me, and I can only assume that Mother got to her somehow. And then, Mother insisted I go see a therapist she’d arranged for me." She laughed bitterly. "I’m sure that you can imagine what kind of therapist she chose based on today’s conversation.”

She was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Today was exhausting; somehow, she just knows exactly how to push all of my buttons. I just wanted to curl up in the corner and cry all day, but I had to fight to stay in control for Henry’s sake.”

Emma threaded her fingers through Regina’s hair, massaging her scalp. She felt Regina relax back into her and gently guided her down to lay with her head in her lap. She watched the gentle rise and fall of Regina’s chest, certain that she was asleep until she spoke.

“Emma, I don’t want to be alone tonight. Will you stay with me?”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, you're not hallucinating... this is an actual update. I am sorry for being the worst person in the world - I never intended to leave it so long between updates, but my writing time was seriously limited this semester and this story required a lot more concentration than I was able to devote to it. The good news is, I'm in the final stages of editing the rest of the story, so there won't be another ridiculously long wait.
> 
> I've also gone back and edited the earlier chapters to fix some of the really clumsy prose that made me cringe when I re-read the whole thing, so if you're planning to re-read, hopefully it flows a bit better.

* * *

On the surface, life was continuing incredibly smoothly for Emma. Her mid-year performance review had been incredibly positive; colleagues, parents and students were happy and even the Board was pleased with the progress she’d made with the track team. With the spring season underway, and promising results in the practice meets, Emma was quietly confident that a top four finish was not out of the question. At her last one-on-one, the Headmistress hinted that there was a strong possibility that she would secure a new multi-year teaching contract. Emma should have been happy, but she wasn’t. She still had doubts about whether this was the kind of teaching she wanted to do, and wondered whether committing to several more years would be the right decision.

And then there was Regina. Emma kept going back to that night. Christmas night. Nothing untoward had happened; she’d held Regina, comforted her, dried her tears, been a good friend. And that should have been all it was, except as she’d lain there, a fiercely protective urge welling up in her chest, she’d realised that she wanted to be there all the time for Regina. Wanted to be the one to help her fight her battles. Wanted to be the one she turned to. And with that realisation had come words, labels that she had specifically tried to avoid attaching to what she felt. And once she’d given a name to those feelings, if only to herself, she found that she was unable to push them back down, unable to silence them. There were moments when the words sat on the tip of her tongue, and she had to bite her lip to keep from blurting them out.

She continued to see Regina and Henry regularly. She tried to enjoy the interactions for what they were, and she succeeded most of the time, convinced herself that she could be happy with the way things were. But occasionally, she was honest with herself, and the truth was that she wanted more. There was a constant tension there, a constant sense of what could be, of unfulfilled potential. And it wasn’t just coming from her, Emma was sure of it.

Tonight, Emma was cooking for Regina at her place, while Henry was at a sleepover with a friend. She frantically worked to tidy her house, make it look at least a little bit respectable, before Regina arrived. Feeling more than a little bit flustered, she finally went to change clothes and had just pulled on a shirt when the doorbell rang.

She answered the door, slightly out of breath. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Regina’s lips curved into a smile. “I wasn’t sure what we were eating, but this should go with most things,” she said, holding out a bottle of wine.

Emma took the bottle of wine from Regina’s hands. Regina loosely grasped Emma’s arms as she leaned in and brushed her lips across Emma’s cheek. It was a contact that should have been innocent, a simple greeting between friends, a ritual performed by millions. Somehow, though, it always felt like it was imbued with another layer of meaning. Emma should have been used to it by now, but her mind was always caught in little details, like the scent of Regina’s perfume, or the tickle of her hair. And sometimes, Regina’s hands lingered a little too long, just a moment beyond what was polite. Like right now.

Emma’s grip around the wine bottle tightened, the muscles of her arm bunching and releasing, and she felt an answering flex in Regina’s grip on her arm. She watched as Regina’s eyes widened slightly, and there was a moment when Emma thought that Regina might lean in again and kiss her, really kiss her. And there was a moment when Emma was tempted to do the same.

Just as Emma could feel herself beginning to give in to that temptation, Regina stepped back, frowning. “What’s that smell?”

Emma sniffed the air. “Oh crap! That’s dinner.” She ran into the kitchen, to see what she could salvage.

Regina followed her into the kitchen, and Emma watched as she shook her head at the scene in front of her. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do, other than give it a dignified burial.” There was a smile tugging at the corners of Regina’s lips as she said this.

Despite her frustration at the ruined meal, and the wasted hours spent preparing it, Emma couldn’t help but return her smile. “You know, I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that when I cook, it tends to end in disaster.”

“I can see that _now_.”

“The local fire brigade used to ask me to warn them in advance if I was planning to cook. Something about activating a disaster management plan, in case they needed to evacuate the city.” Emma sighed. “Sorry, I’ve completely ruined the evening.”

“Nonsense.” Regina was already moving to check the pantry and the fridge. “I’ll see what I can pull together from whatever ingredients you have in the house.”

Emma leaned against the kitchen bench, watching as Regina moved about her kitchen, and could feel her face heating up, embarrassed at her total inability to be a functioning adult. “Unless you have a recipe that calls for Cheetos, bourbon and ramen, I think we might be out of luck.”

Regina looked at the contents of her kitchen with incredulity. “You presumably went shopping for tonight’s dinner; how is it that you don’t have any other food in your house?”

Emma shrugged. “I only bought what I needed. It’s not like I cook very often.”

Regina sighed. “Okay. Plan B it is. Now’s your chance to impress me with your vast collection of take-out menus.”

“Now that, I’m definitely qualified to handle.”

They settled on Chinese, and sat on the sofa drinking wine and eating out of the cartons. Regina had tried to set out plates, but Emma rolled her eyes and insisted that eating straight from the cartons was one of the rules of the house, and that to do otherwise would be a grave insult to Emma’s hospitality.

“What does your fortune say?”

Emma smoothed the piece of paper flat and squinted at the words printed on it. “The greatest risk is not taking one.” That felt a little too close to home.

“In bed.”

Emma frowned. “Really? I wouldn’t have expected you, of all people, to play that game.”

“I have hidden depths.” Regina smirked, and Emma couldn’t help but think she looked kind of adorable when she was so unreasonably pleased with herself.

“In bed?”

“Of course.” Regina unrolled her fortune and read it out. “You have many talents… in bed.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t argue with that.”

Regina gave her a heated look, and if this had been any other situation, if they’d been two different people without all of their associated baggage, this would have been the cue for Emma to put down her wine glass and close the distance between them. This would be the moment when Emma would press Regina down into the sofa and kiss her, soft at first, but then more hungrily, and her hands would seek out skin, and she’d map out the body she was so desperate to explore again.

But they weren’t those people, and so when Emma said Regina’s name, her voice suddenly husky with want, Regina stood up and walked to the kitchen.

“I’m going to find another bottle of wine.”

She returned to the sofa a couple of minutes later, pouring the wine and then resuming her seat. In the meantime, the immediacy of the previous moment was lost, and somehow Emma managed to get her breathing, her voice back under control. And then they talked about mundane things for a while, like work and the weather, avoiding anything that could possibly recall the tension of a moment before.

It was silly, but even after a couple more glasses of wine, Emma found that her fortune was still playing on her mind. She rolled the piece of paper between her fingers, lost in thought.

Regina poked Emma’s leg with her toe, a lazy half-smile crossing her lips. “Why the big sigh?”

“It’s nothing.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “It’s not nothing. The force of that sigh almost took out one of the walls.”

“Do you ever feel like you’re missing out? That there’s something more?” Emma shook her head. “I don’t even know what I’m talking about. A few glasses of wine and I stop making any sense.” Emma eyed the empty bottle of wine on the coffee table somewhat ruefully, with the second well on its way.

“I think I know what you mean.” Regina was silent for a moment before answering. “Sometimes I do think about how my life could have been different. But I always come back to Henry, and how I couldn’t imagine not having him in my life. And for that reason, I have no regrets.”

“I never used to feel like that.” That wasn’t entirely true. There had been moments of loneliness, moments when she’d envied the people around her. It had been silly little things, like the weekly phone calls her college roommate’s mother had insisted on, and her roommate had loudly grumbled about but always waited for. Or the couples she’d known and the little acts of intimacy that characterised their interactions, the tiny moments of consideration that all added up to something bigger. But she’d had no real experience with these things, and had always figured that you couldn’t truly miss what you’d never had. So she’d been content, more or less, with the circumstances of her existence. But now… Now she understood and she felt that absence acutely.

“It’s just that sometimes I feel like I’ve been allowed a taste of the most delicious food imaginable. Just one taste, knowing that I could never have it again. And since then everything else tastes kind of dull, even the things I used to enjoy. And all I can think about is tasting it again. Regina…”

Emma knew she’d had too much to drink, because even though she wasn’t sure she was making a whole lot of sense, truths she hadn’t intended to speak were bubbling up and she couldn’t swallow them back down.

Regina interrupted her, but she didn’t quite meet her eyes when she responded. “As an English teacher, I’m going to stop you before you torture that poor metaphor any further.”

Emma recognised the deflection for what it was, and she should have left well enough alone. She had been biting her tongue for so long, though, pretending that everything was okay. It wasn’t. “What are we doing here, Regina?”

“We’re two friends eating dinner, drinking wine, enjoying the evening.” Regina did return her gaze this time. Her tone was light, but there was a tightness around her eyes that hinted more at a frown than a smile.

“Friends.” Emma laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. It was harsh and jarring even to her own ears. She was seized by a peculiarly destructive urge and she couldn’t keep a hint of bitterness from seeping into her tone. “I think the only people we’re fooling right now are ourselves. Your mother thinks we’re together. _Henry_ thinks we’re together.” She knew the moment she said it, it was a mistake, but it was out there now.

“You have no right to involve my son in this. What have you been saying to him?”

Emma recoiled at the flash of anger in Regina’s eyes. “Nothing. He’s a smart kid; he heard what your mother said at Christmas time and drew his own conclusions. And since then, he’s brought it up a couple of times, trying to catch me out. I’ve told him that he needs to talk to you about these things, but he thinks we’re lying to him.”

Regina’s anger subsided a little, but Emma could see the tension in her face. “I’m sorry. I talked to him and I thought the matter was settled. I didn’t realise he’d been bothering you about it.”

Emma sighed. “He hasn’t been bothering me. Not really. But I can’t help but wonder what he sees when he watches the two of us. When we’re sitting at the dinner table and you smile at me, can he see what I’m feeling? Because the effect you have on me… sometimes I think it must be so obvious.”

There was a part of Emma that was yelling at her to stop. That was the part that recognised the tension around Regina’s eyes and her jaw, the loose grip on her wine glass that had suddenly turned tight, the stiffness in her spine, where laxity had reigned only a moment ago. And ordinarily, Emma listened to that part of herself, but right now, it was just a helpless bystander as she ploughed onwards. There were rules that she’d tacitly agreed to, and she was on the verge of breaking all of them.

“So I can’t help but think that maybe he’s half right, because I know what I feel. And we’ve been dancing around this for so long, like if we pretend there’s nothing there it’ll go away. But it’s not working for me. So I need to know, can you look me in the eye and say that you honestly feel nothing more for me than friendship?”

“Emma… Please…” Regina had a stricken look on her face, and Emma knew she should stop. But now that she had started talking, the words just kept coming; it was like the brakes had been cut and she was rushing headlong into a disaster she couldn’t avert.

“Regina, I’m in love with you and I don’t know how to stop myself from feeling this way.” She swallowed, trying to compose herself. “And honestly, I don’t want to stop. I want you. I want this.”

“Emma, we can’t. _I_ can’t.”

And there it was. The hope that Emma hadn’t even realised she’d been holding on to was extinguished. She felt like all her ribs were being constricted, her lungs unable to draw enough air, and the vital muscle nestled in there crushed until it could no longer beat. There was an answering pain in Regina’s eyes, a pain that suggested that Regina felt as she did. But that wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, it seemed.

Emma choked out an apology and then turned and ran from her own house. She kept running, as fast as she could, with no thought of where she was going, until her lungs were burning from the exertion and the cool night air. She finally took account of her surroundings, realising she was near the park. She found a bench and sat there for a while, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to ignore the chill; in her haste to leave, she hadn’t taken a jacket, and even though it was spring, the air was still cool. Eventually, she had to concede defeat; her teeth were chattering and her fingers and her nose and her ears were numb. She wished her heart could be too. She walked back to her house, slowly, dragging things out as long as she could.

When she finally returned, Regina was gone.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for keeping the faith even though I left it so long between updates. Your kind words about the story mean a lot to me, and it still absolutely blows my mind that there are so many of you reading. 
> 
> For anyone who is wondering, I will be posting a new chapter every few days, now that I've finished writing the story.
> 
> Also, if anyone has any prompts that they'd like me to write, feel free to drop me a note on tumblr (my user name is helveticabrown). I'm working on other projects at the moment, but I am very open to distractions.

* * *

Emma walked into her office, preoccupied. She’d just walked out of an incredibly frustrating meeting, so she didn’t immediately notice Cora Mills sitting quietly in one of the visitor chairs. She bit back a surprised curse when she finally noticed Cora sitting there, regarding her with a raised eyebrow.

“Miss Swan. How nice to see you again.”

She scrambled to find a suitable response. There were alarm signals blaring in her brain; even though she’d only met her once, Emma was all too aware that Cora Mills was trouble with a capital T, and that she’d better choose her words carefully.

She settled on a neutral smile and said, “Hello Mrs Mills. What can I do for you?”

“I was just taking a tour of the school. I wanted to find out a little bit about how my grandson is going and I thought that I really should come and have a chat with the track coach he talks about so much,” Cora said, her tone pleasantly conversational. With anyone else, Emma might have believed that this was nothing more than a simple chat, but from what she’d learned of Cora, there would be some agenda in play.

Emma was aware that Henry had been spending occasional weekends with his grandmother, and she’d had the distinct impression that that had played at least some role in Henry’s not entirely subtle questioning about the state of her relationship with Regina. Those vague suspicions solidified with Cora sitting in front of her smiling in a fashion that brought to mind images of a shark dressed in head-to-toe Chanel, poised to rip her head off.

Emma walked around her desk and sat down, facing Cora. “Well, what can I say about Henry? He’s a wonderful kid. He’s talented, he has a great attitude, and he’s a joy to teach.” So far, it was all very polite, very innocent, but Emma suspected that it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“And I understand that you see quite a bit of him socially as well, Miss Swan.”

_There._ Emma didn’t play chess, but she’d played quite a few team sports, and she could almost see the way that Cora was trying to lead her into a trap. “I do see him outside of school sometimes,” she responded.

“Yes, and do you think that’s appropriate?” Her tone left Emma in no doubt that Cora thought it wasn’t.

“His mother is a colleague and a friend, and she sees no problem with the way I interact with Henry. She would be the first person to say something if there was.” Emma folded her arms and regarded Cora steadily.

“I know that _you_ probably wouldn’t understand this, Miss Swan, but family is _very_ important to me.” Emma didn’t miss the way that Cora’s eyes narrowed, couldn’t miss the implication of her words. There was a dig there, a subtle hint that Cora knew more about her past than Emma might be comfortable with. “I need you to realise that I will do absolutely everything in my power to ensure that my daughter and my grandson fulfil their potential.”

Emma bit back the response she desperately wanted to give. She knew all too well how Cora Mills liked to look after her family. She remembered tears soaking through her shirt, the way that Regina’s voice, normally so steady, had been tremulous, and how she had seemed so small, so lost in Emma’s arms, even hours after Cora had left. Emma jammed her hands into her pockets; she was afraid that if she didn’t restrain them, they just might find a way to wrap themselves around Cora’s throat. Emma had never thought of herself as being particularly prone to violence, unless there was an imminent physical threat, but the rage she felt in Cora’s presence was a terrifying, visceral thing.

She fought the urge to lash out, consciously slowing her breathing until she felt herself achieve a measure of calm. She finally responded. “Of course. Henry’s a great kid, and I want to see him do his best. And Regina’s a friend, and I want nothing more than to see her happy.” The friend part of it was debatable at this point in time – they had barely spoken in the week since Emma’s confession – but there was something that made Emma want to hold that information back.

“Good. I’m very pleased you can appreciate my perspective. And that’s why I’m sure you’ll understand when I ask that you stop seeing my daughter.” Cora’s smile didn’t falter for a moment; she continued to look at Emma as if she’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world. “You’ll find that I can be very _generous_ when my expectations are met.”

“Excuse me?” The anger that Emma had been struggling to hold in check evaporated, only to be replaced with incredulity.

Cora continued, undeterred, sounding for all the world like they were having a chat about something as mundane as the weather. “Miss Swan, don’t you think it would be better for you to walk away now, with your dignity intact, than to wait around until my daughter finally wakes up to the fact that she’s wasting her time with you?”

It was lucky that there was a desk separating them, because Emma suspected she really would have slapped Cora at that point, and the very small part of her mind that was managing to remain rational in the face of this provocation knew that would be a terrible mistake. She gripped the edge of the desk, keeping her hands busy, but she couldn’t stop the anger from spilling out, evident in the increasing volume of her voice.

“Listen, lady. I don’t know where you get off trying to tell me how to live my life. My relationship with Regina is none of your business and I doubt that she’d be impressed if she heard what you were saying. We’re both adults, capable of making our own decisions, and you have absolutely no right to interfere with that.”

Cora stood up and leaned over the desk, close enough to make Emma feel distinctly uncomfortable. “My daughter is destined for far greater things than playing at teaching in some provincial town, and she certainly won’t achieve that destiny with someone like you at her side. A mother knows what’s best for her child and _you_ , Miss Swan, are not it.” The smile was gone now, and Cora’s eyes glittered malevolently. “And I absolutely will not have you harming my grandson by exposing him to your disgusting lifestyle. You’ve already corrupted my daughter and I won’t allow you to fill _his_ mind too with unnatural ideas.”

Emma stood up, and she barely heard the crash of her chair slamming back into the wall behind her. She could feel her fists clenching and unclenching, belying the icy calm of her voice when she finally spoke. “This conversation is over, Mrs Mills. I won’t sit here any longer and listen to you insult me like this.”

“Oh, this isn’t over, Miss Swan. Not by a long way.” The smile Cora cast in her direction was mocking, and Emma was genuinely afraid that if Cora remained in her office any longer, she would do something that she’d regret.

“Get out!”

“Goodbye, Miss Swan. I appreciate you taking the time to update me on Henry’s progress and I look forward to talking again soon.”

Cora walked out, and Emma waited until she was out of sight to collapse back into her chair. Her chest felt tight; breathing was difficult, and her heart felt like it might shatter her ribs. Everything about the encounter had left her feeling unsettled.

*****

Even after lunch and the last two periods of the day, Emma still hadn’t entirely calmed down. Cora Mills, Emma reflected, really was a piece of work. She walked out to the parking lot, still fuming, so when she found Killian Jones leaning against the driver’s side door of her car, she couldn’t even pretend to be polite.

“What do _you_ want?” she snarled.

“Just to give you some friendly advice, love. I like you, and I don’t want to see you make a mistake.” He licked his lips as he said this, and Emma felt queasy. There was something about him that set her on edge.

“I’m not your love, and I doubt you have any advice to offer that I’d be interested in.” She tried to get around him to open her door, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I’ve been working with Cora for a long time, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that she will get her way eventually. You might as well take advantage of her generosity now, because I can guarantee that you’ll find later offers far less pleasant.”

He reached out and laid a hand on her arm and she looked at it for a moment before shaking him off.

“Yeah, well I’m not some kid that she can just push around.” She pinned him with a glare. “I don’t like bullies. Never have. Now get off my car.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself, love. I’ve been very nice to you so far, but next time we meet, well, who knows?”

He finally stepped away from the car, bowing and gesturing to the door with a mocking flourish.

She hopped into the car and slammed the door, regretting it almost immediately as the sound hurt her eardrums. She sat, gripping the steering wheel, the engine still off. Her hands were shaking a little too much to get the key into the ignition, so she waited, watching Killian walk away. He stopped and turned to look back, holding eye contact for a moment. She clenched her teeth against the anger and disgust she felt welling up, and she found herself unable to relax until he was finally out of sight. She sat there for a moment or two longer, before finally starting the car.

As she drove, the day’s encounters played over and over in her mind. For all of her bravado when she’d been facing Cora and Killian, Emma was starting to wonder what she was fighting for. It had been a week since she’d ruined everything, a week in which she and Regina had barely exchanged two words, and she couldn’t see any way forward.

Without entirely realising what she was doing, she drove past her house and it wasn’t long before she was on the road out of Storybrooke. After the day’s events – the last week’s, really – Emma felt the town pressing in on her. She needed to get away, needed to think, needed to be anywhere but here. She kept driving until she was two towns over and pulled up in front of the first bar she laid eyes on.

A few hours later she’d had several drinks and come to the conclusion, with some help from the bartender, that she was in no way able to drive home. She called Ruby.

She sat at the bar, head and shoulders bowed, nursing another drink as she waited for Ruby to arrive. She repelled the advances of one of the regular patrons for the third time this evening, glaring at him until she was certain he wouldn’t try again. The whisky burned her throat as it went down, no more palatable than the last six or eight or a dozen had been. She sighed. She’d been hoping to achieve some clarity, find her way to some answer that hadn’t yet occurred to her, some sort of magic bullet, but her mind was cloudy with cheap alcohol and grief over a future that would never come to be. No matter where she looked, a solution was nowhere in sight.

She barely noticed Ruby and Graham coming up beside her, barely noticed the arm slung around her shoulder, barely noticed the concern in Ruby’s voice as she said, “Oh Emma.”

She hadn’t told Ruby about the disastrous dinner with Regina, had spent the week avoiding her and everyone that she could, really. Gearing up for the spring track season had given her a convenient excuse, and she’d thrown herself into it with gusto. It had been a way to avoid thinking about things too much and to avoid the inevitable looks of concern and the questions that were now being directed at her.

Ruby waved Graham away, before pulling up a stool and settling in next to her. “What’s going on, Emma?”

“I screwed everything up, Ruby. I should have left it alone, but I didn’t and now everything’s ruined.” Emma could taste salt on her tongue as she spoke and she was confused for a moment until she realised that she was crying. There was a glass of water placed in front of her, and she took it mindlessly when Ruby handed it to her, coughing after she tried to drink it too fast.

There was a soothing hand rubbing her back, and Ruby waited until she had her breath back before asking, “What happened, Emma? Did something happen with Regina?”

There was a coaster on the bar in front of her, and Emma picked it up and shredded it angrily, not looking at Ruby as she spoke. “I’m such a fucking idiot. Things were okay between us. Maybe not the way I wanted them to be, but okay. And then I had to fuck everything up by telling her how I feel.”

She could hear Ruby’s sharp intake of breath and she turned, finally, to face her.

“I’m guessing based on the fact that you’re sitting in a dive bar drinking Old Crow, instead of at her place, that it did not go well.”

“Nice work, Captain Obvious. With powers of observation like that, they should give you a job at the Sheriff’s department.” Emma felt a brief flicker of satisfaction when Ruby flinched at her tone of voice, but it was chased away by remorse a moment later. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just so angry with myself. I should have kept my goddamned mouth shut.”

“I don’t know if you should have, though. I mean, you said it yourself, things were okay but not the way you wanted them to be. How long do you think you could have gone on pretending that there was nothing more than friendship between you?”

Emma looked down at the bar, absent-mindedly tracing patterns in the condensation dripping from her glass of water. “I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly happy before, but at least I wasn’t completely miserable. At least we were friends. Now, though… now I don’t know what could possibly remain between us.”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but maybe this isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe now you can start to move on, try to get over her.” Ruby placed a hand over hers, briefly stilling her agitated fidgeting.

“It isn’t what I want to hear.” Emma shook her head. “I’ve never felt this way about someone before. It’s wonderful and terrible and I want it to stop and I want it to never end. And sometimes the way she would look at me… I don’t know. I think maybe she feels the same and that makes it hurt more, because I’ve finally got to the point where I’m willing to take a chance on someone and…” She trailed off, searching Ruby’s eyes, pleading for some kind of answer. “How do I get over her, Ruby?”

“Time. Distance. Lots of ice cream and Bette Midler movies.” Ruby shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s no magic cure.”

“Well I wish there was.”

When Ruby pulled her into a hug, Emma didn’t resist, allowing herself the brief moment of comfort. It didn’t really change anything, but for a moment it was nice to know that she wasn’t completely alone. Eventually she broke the hug and she smiled weakly at Ruby in a silent show of gratitude.

“We really should get you home now. Give me your keys; Graham will drive my car back, and I’ll drive you home in the Bug.” Ruby laid a hand on Emma’s shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom first. Don’t go anywhere.”

Emma rolled her eyes in response. As Ruby walked off to the bathroom, Graham slid into the seat next to her.

“You know, Regina’s very good at pushing people away, even people she cares about.”

Emma eyed him sharply, or at least as sharply as she could manage. In the time since Ruby and Graham had arrived, the alcohol she’d drunk had well and truly caught up with her and things were starting to feel a little bit fuzzy. “What has Ruby told you?”

“Nothing.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “I know I don’t look like a genius, but I _do_ notice things and I _know_ Regina.”

“And what is it that you’ve noticed?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her and the way she looks at you and I think she cares about you deeply. Like I said, though, she has a talent for pushing people away.” He regarded her seriously, before continuing. “But if you look past that, she’s worth the effort.”

Emma smiled sadly. “I know she is, and I’ve tried. But maybe that’s not the problem. Maybe I’m just not worth the risk.”


	21. Chapter 21

“Do you think I should go?”

Ruby handed her a beer before folding herself into an armchair. She shrugged. “What do you have to lose? It’s not like going for an interview and a tour means you’re committing to anything. And you’re on a one-year contract, Em. I mean, my intel says you’re definitely going to get extended, but you’re allowed to explore other options.”

“I don’t even know if this is something I want to do.” She’d never seriously thought about coaching at college level. When she’d graduated, she’d been eager to get out there and start helping kids and to start earning some real money. Paid (or decently paid) assistant coach positions were hard to come by, particularly as a woman, and you had to spend a lot of time grinding away in the hopes of getting a head coaching position. But the recruiter who had called her had strongly implied that there was a generous package attached to the position.

“So why not find out?”

Emma grunted, not really answering the question, and Ruby pinned her with a penetrating look.

“What’s going on, Emma?”

“Is this just me running from my problems again?” She picked at the label on her bottle of beer, not making eye contact with Ruby. “I’ve spent a lot of time running away. From people, from places, from myself.” She finally looked up. “Ruby, if I use this as an excuse to leave Storybrooke, am I just being a coward?”

“Emma, giving yourself time and space to heal is not wrong; it’s important to do the right thing by yourself, whatever that is.”

“That’s the problem.” Emma shook her head. “I don’t know what the right thing is. I mean, this is the first place that’s felt kind of like it could be home. But it’s not really about Storybrooke, it’s about the people I’ve found. And you’re leaving, and Regina…” She shrugged helplessly. “Seeing her most days at work and thinking about what we had, about what we could have had. It hurts, and I don’t know if I know how to get past it.”

“Just do what you have to.”

The same thoughts just kept chasing themselves round and round her head, and she didn’t want to dwell on them any longer. She took a long draw of her beer, before changing the subject. “My car got vandalised a few days ago.”

“What?” Ruby stared at her, shock written all over her face. “What happened?”

“Don’t know. I was working late and when I got to the car park, one of the windows was broken and there was graffiti on the door.”

“Did you report it to the Sheriff?”

“Yeah. He wasn’t particularly helpful,” Emma grumbled. He really hadn’t been; he’d told her it was probably just kids playing up, and if she really wanted to, she could file a report. The implication had been that it wouldn’t get followed up on.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Figures. The limits of his usefulness are catching local dogs when they’ve escaped. What’d the graffiti say?”

“Dyke,” Emma said quietly, looking at her hands as she spoke. The incident had actually shaken her up more than she’d been willing to admit.

“That is not even remotely okay.” Ruby looked furious. “Did you talk to anyone at the school about it? I can talk to my Great-aunt Ethel if you want.”

Emma shook her head. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea. I’ve been trying to avoid any rumours starting at school, and this seems like it would do just that. Honestly, I kind of regret talking to the Sheriff.”

“Oh, Emma.” Ruby gave her a sad look. “This just isn’t right. You don’t deserve any of this.”

Emma shrugged. “I’ll survive. It’s just been a strange couple of weeks.”

It really had. There was more that she hadn’t told Ruby. She hadn’t told her about the fight she’d broken up last week, and how she’d struggled to breathe in the aftermath. She hadn’t told her about hiding in her office, panic clawing at her chest three days this week, or how from time to time, she’d catch a glimpse of a flash of sunlight on metal and her heart would start racing until she realised it wasn’t a knife.

She hadn’t told her about how sleep was suddenly proving elusive, and how her strategy of throwing herself into coaching was no longer quite as effective a distraction as it had been previously. She was exhausted, and all those wounds and tears she’d stitched back together so carefully were suddenly coming unravelled and she felt raw and exposed.

Emma drained the rest of her beer and plastered a smile on her face. It was brittle, but enough to prompt Ruby to perk up a little in response. “Enough about me. I want to talk about something happy. Have you booked your flights yet?”

“I did. I booked yesterday.” Ruby bounced around excitedly in her seat. “And Graham’s coming with me. We leave for London on the 28th of June.”

*****

Emma stood on Regina’s doorstep, heart thudding so hard she was sure that the neighbours must be able to hear it. She raised her hand for the fourth time to ring the doorbell, only to let it drop to her side again. She hadn’t spoken, really spoken, to Regina since that night six weeks ago.

Somehow, between them, they’d reached an unspoken accord that their previous degree of interaction was completely unsustainable, but there was no reason to actually discuss what had happened between them any further. It was immature and cowardly, Emma knew, but in the immediate aftermath, she’d felt entirely too fragile to discuss any of it, and the events of the intervening weeks had done nothing to make her feel any stronger or more ready to talk.

Now though, now she had to talk to Regina and the prospect was terrifying. That wasn’t entirely true; she didn’t _have_ to talk to Regina about this, but there was a part of her that needed some sort of closure before she could make this decision. This time, she managed to ring the bell, and she paced back and forth fretfully as she waited for the door to be answered.

A minute later, the door opened and she was greeted by Henry’s excited voice. “Miss Swan! You haven’t come over in ages!”

“Yeah. You know how it is with track season. I’m always so busy.”

“You missed dinner, but I’m sure there’s something left for you. Mom made turnovers tonight.”

She mustered up a smile as he kept chattering away. She’d been hoping that he’d already be in bed, so that she’d be able to speak to Regina privately, but apparently she’d arrived a little too early. When his enthusiastic monologue finally came to a close, she said, “Hey kid, is your Mom around?”

“Yeah, she’s just having a shower at the moment. She should be finished soon.”

Emma chided herself. She should have called before coming over. But honestly, she’d been afraid that if she didn’t just get in the car and drive over, she’d chicken out. Again. Yesterday, she’d picked up her phone a dozen or more times, intending to dial Regina’s number, before putting it back down again.

“Oh. I’ll see her some other time then, I guess.” She started to turn away to leave, but Henry grabbed her hand, pulling her into the house.

“She won’t be long. Come on, you can wait for her inside.”

She hesitated for a moment; she was pretty sure that Regina wouldn’t be particularly pleased to find her in the house, uninvited. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to get her nerve up again. The latter consideration won out, and she let Henry lead her into the kitchen; he directed her to sit at the table, before handing her a soda. She smiled as he bustled about, the picture of a perfect host. He was so much like Regina, sometimes.

She’d been sitting at the table chatting with Henry for a couple of minutes when Regina walked into the kitchen, drying her hair with a towel. Emma sucked in a breath at the sight of her: relaxed, no make-up, wearing a large fluffy bathrobe, hair falling in a messy, damp tangle, just above her shoulders. It was a sight not meant for her eyes, but Emma couldn’t help but drink it all in.

“Henry, why aren’t you getting ready for bed?” Regina asked, amused frustration colouring her tone. “You’ve got an early start tomorrow, and you should have been in bed half an hour ago.” Regina noticed Emma a moment later, and her whole disposition changed. The easy, relaxed body language of a moment ago was gone; she clutched at the neck of her bathrobe. “Emma…” Her face transited through a range of expressions – shock, a kind of naked vulnerability, anger – before finally settling into a neutral, mask-like appearance.

“What are you doing here?” There was a slight quaver that Emma could detect in Regina’s voice, at odds with her expression.

“I needed to talk to you.” She looked over at Henry and back at Regina. “I’m sorry. It’s probably not the best timing, but…” She trailed off, shrugging helplessly, expecting to be asked to leave any minute now.

“It really isn’t.” Regina draped the towel around her neck and sighed.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“No. Sit down. I’ll just be a couple of minutes and then we can talk.” She turned to Henry, hands on hips. “And you, young man, would you like to explain why you’re answering the door this late at night?”

“Mom, I promise I checked who it was before I opened the door. And it’s not like Miss Swan hasn’t been here a hundred times before. I thought it would be okay.”

“Henry. Rules exist for a reason. I don’t just make them up for fun.” There was a brief moment when her eyes met Emma’s, and Emma smiled, a wordless exchange of empathy at the broken-record mantra of parents and teachers everywhere, before Regina seemed to recall that they weren’t exactly on the same side at the moment. “Come on, Henry. Upstairs and get ready for bed.”

As Emma sat in the kitchen, waiting for Regina to return, she was struck by the thought that maybe this would be the last time she would ever sit at this table. She swallowed against the sudden painful tightness in her throat, and tried not to give in to the adamant prickling of her eyes.

In some ways, this had come to feel more like home than her own house, more like home than anywhere she’d ever lived. This was a place of warm banter, cosy evenings, intimacy, a dynamic she’d never thought she’d get a chance to experience, much less enjoy. Sitting here, immersed in a wave of memories, Emma felt the loss of it all more intensely, more acutely, than she’d thought was possible.

There really wasn’t any doubt in her mind how this was going to go, and she wondered why she’d even come. All she was doing was tormenting herself with ghostly after-images of might-have-beens and never-weres. She was still fighting back tears when Regina returned, and she didn’t immediately look up when Regina sat down opposite her. Eventually, she pulled herself together enough to meet Regina’s eyes.

“What do you need to talk to me about, Emma?” In the minutes since she’d gone upstairs, Regina had apparently attained some sort of emotional equilibrium, all while Emma’s had become more and more upended.

“I’ve been offered a job in Boston. Coaching college track. It’s a good opportunity: great campus, great facilities, I’d be working with one of the best coaches in the country.” She looked at Regina, trying to gauge her reaction. There was a brief flicker of surprise that was gone almost as soon as it had appeared, but beyond that, Regina was maintaining a near-perfect poker face. It was a little too perfect, a little too studied, and it frustrated Emma. She wanted a reaction, whatever it happened to be.

A moment later – a little too long for it to have been a spontaneous response – Regina smiled and said, “Congratulations.”

“I haven’t accepted the offer yet. I felt like I should talk to you first.”

“What do you want me to say, Emma? Do you want me to beg you to stay?” Regina shook her head, the façade cracking a little and frustration creeping into her voice. “I’m not going to; this isn’t a decision I have any right to influence.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have come.” A very small part of her had been hoping just that, hoping that Regina _would_ try to change her mind, would give her a tiny sliver of hope. But that hope was very much a fantasy, and Emma had been realistic enough recognise it as that.

Regina searched her face for a moment, brows knitted in a frown. “Emma, I don’t think you came here with any real question over what you were going to do. But you’re here now, and we’re well overdue for a conversation about what happened, so let’s talk.”

Emma could feel her hands shaking; she ran them through her hair, giving them something to do. “I don’t really know what to say to you. Just… everything about this makes me fucking miserable. I keep wishing I could go back in time and fix this somehow, stop myself from saying anything. But if it hadn’t been that night, it would have been another.”

Regina leaned forward and grasped Emma’s hands, which she’d finally settled on the table. “I’m sorry, Emma. I really am. I should have realised sooner that things were getting out of control, but I didn’t want to see it, because I was being selfish.” She smiled ruefully. “I wanted you in my life and I didn’t think about how unfair it was to you.”

“Sometimes I think it might have been better if I’d never gotten to know you, so I’d never know what I was missing. But then I realise that I don’t regret any of it. Not really. Because for all that it hurts right now, and has for a while, there were moments when it was all so wonderful and I was happier than I’ve ever been.” The tears she’d been desperately holding back started to slip down her cheeks. “Regina, if I stayed in Storybrooke…” she trailed off, not sure how to finish that thought.

“I’m not going to give you false hope, Emma. If you choose to stay in Storybrooke, things between us won’t change. I’ve told you my reasons. And if you leave, I _will_ miss you. I already do. You’re a very dear friend. And I’m not going to lie to you. Have I sometimes thought about how things could be different?” She shrugged. “But sometimes isn’t a foundation for a relationship. Not the sort that you’re asking for. Besides, it’s not fair for me to string you along any more when what I feel for you is simple attraction, and what you feel for me is something more.”

She was surprised at how much it hurt to hear that; even when she thought that every last bit of hope had been extinguished, it seemed that she’d still nursed a tiny little spark.

Regina was still holding her hands, and her grip on them tightened. Through her tears, Emma could see what looked like pain in Regina’s face. It was evident in the lines etched deep around her mouth, in the set of her chin, in lips pressed tight together and turned down at the edges, in eyes that were suspiciously shiny.

Seeing that, there was a small part of her that wondered at the truth of Regina’s words. It hadn’t felt like it was just attraction on Regina’s side, but maybe she’d been projecting her own feelings and mistaking them for something more. She had no reference point, nothing to compare any of this to, so perhaps she was just trying to fool herself into keeping hope alive where there was none.

“I should go.” Emma moved to stand up and Regina finally let go of her hands. “Thank you for being honest with me. I didn’t realise just how much I needed to hear all of this.” She accepted the box of Kleenex that Regina offered a moment later, taking a moment to dry her tears. There would be more later, but for now, she was determined to hold onto what little dignity she might have left.

They walked to the front door, and just as Emma was about to leave, Regina grabbed her hand again. “Wait.” She pulled Emma into a tight hug, almost tight enough to push the air from her lungs. They clung to each other for a time – it could have been seconds or minutes, she couldn’t quite tell – and Emma took this last opportunity to breathe Regina in, to remember the shape of her, the feel of her. When they finally broke apart, her shirt was wet with tears, and they weren’t all her own.

*****

She was sitting in her office after last period, going over some details for the weekend’s meet when Henry burst into her office, looking upset.

“Is it true?”

“What’s up, kid?”

“Are you leaving?”

She smiled tightly and nodded. “Yeah. I got offered a job out of state.” The look on Henry’s face at this response tore her apart.

“Is this because you and Mom broke up?”

She sighed. “The job I got offered is a really good opportunity. And Henry, I’ve told you and your Mom’s told you that we weren’t together.”

“Why not? You made her happy. I saw it.” He was crying now. “Don’t you love her?”

She swallowed against the lump suddenly forming in her throat. “It’s not always that simple, kid. It’s not like in fairy tales, where love can overcome any obstacle. Sometimes it’s not enough to love someone. Sometimes they don’t love you back. Sometimes they’re not free to love you back. Sometimes there are all sorts of reasons why you can’t be with someone.”

“I’ll talk to her for you, tell her that she has to let you stay.” He was pleading with her, desperate for a solution, a way to change things, and it broke Emma’s heart. She’d been sad leaving some of her kids behind back in Boston, but it was nothing like this. Because as much as Regina had gotten under her skin, Henry had too.

“Henry…” Her voice was soft and sad and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. She blinked, trying to hold them back, keep her composure. She’d been losing it a lot, recently, but she needed to be strong right now, talking to Henry. “Kid, sometimes things like this happen and it’s no one’s fault. And there’s nothing here to fix, no matter how much you want to try and help.”

Looking at Henry now, she understood all of Regina’s caution, all of her fears. Only, it was too late. Somehow, she’d slipped into their lives, careless, heedless of the damage she could cause. For a moment she regretted her decision to walk away, but the longer she stayed, she reasoned, the greater the fallout would eventually have become. This was the right choice. It _had_ to be.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I know, kid. I know.” She stood up and walked over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “None of this means that I’ve stopped caring about you, Henry. You’re very important to me. Okay?” She desperately wanted to tell him that they could keep in touch, still see each other, but those weren’t her promises to make.

He nodded, but Emma could see he still wasn’t convinced.

“Is your Mom in her office at the moment?”

“Yeah, she should be.”

“Come on. I’ll walk you up there.”

They walked up to the main building and arrived at Regina’s office. Regina’s head was bent over a stack of papers and she was frowning, glasses slipping down her nose. Emma smiled a little wistfully, enjoying the sight for a brief moment before knocking on the door. Regina rarely wore her glasses, but every time she did, Emma was seized by an impish desire to push her up against the nearest wall and smudge those lenses. She pushed the thought away; it wasn’t one that she had any right entertain. That had been made abundantly clear.

In some ways, things _were_ becoming a little easier. As hard as it had been, the conversation the other night had cleared the air, and the few times she and Regina had interacted the heaviness that had hung between them was no longer there. It still hurt, but Emma finally felt like she was beginning to accept the way that things were going to have to be.

Regina looked up at the sound of Emma’s knock, the frown deepening as her eyes landed on Emma and Henry standing in the doorway.

“Look what I found wandering around,” Emma said, hand clasped on Henry’s shoulder. She felt him tense beneath her hand, a moment before he stepped forward into the office and shouted at Regina.

“This is all your fault, Mom. She’s leaving because of you. Why did you have to ruin things?”

Emma could see Regina flinch at the accusation, and she felt a stab of guilt. She hadn’t handled this well and Regina was the one in the line of fire.

“Henry… I didn’t… I…” Regina’s voice shook as she spoke and she couldn’t seem to complete her thoughts.

Emma could see the situation heading south very quickly, and she jumped in, cutting Henry off as he was about to say something that she suspected might be even more hurtful. “Kid, I really need to talk to your Mom for a moment. Can you go wait in the hallway for a minute? Please?”

He looked ready to protest, so she repeated her entreaty, her voice softer this time. “Please, Henry?”

He eventually nodded and she shut the door behind him.

“I’m sorry. He took me by surprise, and I don’t think I handled the conversation as well as I should have.”

Regina still looked shaken, and Emma laid a comforting hand on her arm.

“What did he say?”

“He thinks that we broke up, and I’m leaving because of that. He wanted to try to change your mind.”

“I hadn’t told him you were leaving yet. I was trying to figure out the right way and the right time to do it. Guess I messed that up,” Regina said, bitterness coating her voice.

“I don’t know where he found out. Maybe he overheard some of the other teachers talking about it.”

Regina sighed. “What’s done is done. Now I have to figure out a way to fix it.”

“Regina, I want to remain in his life in some way, even if it’s just the occasional e-mail, but if you don’t think that’s a good idea, then…” Emma shrugged. “Just tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it. No questions. He’s your son, and the last thing I want is to make things difficult between you. I care about you both too much.”

Regina shook her head. “I don’t know. I really don’t. Is it better for him to be angry at me and disappointed in you now, or disappointed in you later when you inevitably move on with your life? I need to think about it.”

_Inevitably_. That hurt, but she knew Regina was right. She couldn’t make any promises long-term.

“Sure. Let me know when you decide.” She gave Regina’s arm one last squeeze. “And it’ll be okay. He’s just lashing out right now, but it’ll blow over.” There was a weak flicker of a smile in response that was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Emma opened the door and stepped out into the hall. She knelt down in front of Henry, looking him straight in the eye. “Be good to her, okay, kid? Everything she does, she does for you. She loves you, and don’t you dare forget it.”

She held his gaze until he nodded his agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't throw things at me...


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a few people weren't exactly in love with the last chapter, and I don't know if anyone's going to particularly love this one either, but it's kind of necessary to get to where I'm going. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who threw poorly-aimed projectiles at me after the last chapter. I now have a lovely supply of rocks, fruit and pug plushies to keep me occupied.

* * *

In the end, she’d slipped out of Storybrooke with very little fanfare. Mary Margaret had tried to throw her a farewell party, but Ruby had talked her down, a fact for which Emma was eternally grateful. The school administration had been disappointed to see her go; she’d left the track team in excellent shape, with a good springboard for the next season. A fourth place finish, after starting the school year as the laughing stock of the competition, had been a remarkable achievement, all things considered.

She and Regina had maintained a polite distance for the last few weeks that she was in Storybrooke; there had been no last minute declarations of love, no dramatic, tearful farewell. Anything that was going to happen between them had already happened. It was strange to think that such a tumultuous ride could come to such a gentle, anti-climactic end, but it had. It hadn’t stopped hurting, but somehow, the certainty that nothing more could ever happen between them and the knowledge that she would soon be leaving Regina behind let Emma distance herself from the pain a little.

Henry had been a different story. He’d become noticeably withdrawn, losing interest in track, skipping sessions and applying himself with significantly less dedication when he did attend. Emma had tried to keep the faith, but after he completely tanked a race, she’d had to bench him. And he’d been angry, lashing out at her, saying terrible, hurtful things. She’d tried not to take it personally; she understood all too well what he was going through. But it _had_ hurt. The last day she’d been at school, he’d finally fallen apart, tearfully apologising.

Coming back to Boston had been both easy and strangely difficult. She knew the city, could walk the streets without having to think about where she was going. Her feet automatically carried her to old haunts, and at first, it had been oddly comforting walking back into places that had hosted so many events of her recent past. But she’d quickly realised that those memories were empty, disconnected, colourless, a serious of one-night-stands, meaningless encounters and superficial acquaintances.

After Storybrooke, she’d come to recognise that there had been a grim futility in so many aspects of the way she’d lived her life in Boston before. She had left no lasting impressions on the city, and it had left none on her. When she really thought about it, there had been no one that she’d actually wanted to reconnect with from her previous time in Boston.

Life was going well, if not spectacularly. Coaching kept her extremely busy, and what little free time she had, she tended to spend with other coaches in the athletics program, who were forced to keep similarly weird schedules. She’d started seeing her therapist again, and finally felt like she was coming to grips with the issues that had resurfaced in those last couple of months in Storybrooke. And she’d been lucky enough to find a roommate she got on with in Mulan, one of the soccer coaches.

There were days when loneliness crept up on her, though, and she lost herself in thoughts of what she’d left behind, in wishes for a world where things could have been different. Today was one of those days; her maudlin thoughts had been prompted by the e-mail she’d received earlier that day.

She cracked open a beer and re-read Henry’s e-mail for the third time in an hour. Mostly, it was mundane stuff – how he was going at school, track, a movie he’d seen last week, the video game he was playing – that made her smile a little wistfully at the things she was missing out on. However, it was the postscript – _she misses you –_ that had brought about her descent into full-blown brooding over Regina.

Mulan got home just as Emma headed to the fridge to grab another beer; she pulled out a second one and tossed it to Mulan. She headed back to the sofa and Mulan joined her.

They sat there, drinking and talking about work for a while, before Mulan pinned her with a knowing look. “Okay, spill. It’s not even six o’clock and you’re on your second beer, you’re listening to Adele on repeat, and you look like someone killed your dog. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s just been a long week.” Although she and Mulan got on well, she hadn’t really talked about her past, or her reasons for moving back to Boston.

Mulan rolled her eyes, but didn’t push her any further. A couple of drinks later, though, everything she’d been bottling up came spilling out and Emma was telling her about Regina and Henry. And Mulan, in turn, was telling Emma about her very own messy love life.

“Rory was my college roommate. She drove me insane at first; she was such a princess. But she kind of grew on me after a while and I started to see another side of her. She had this boyfriend – Phillip – and he was going to school in another state so she was pretty miserable. And I was there and it was all so innocent at first, but then she started to treat me like I was a stand-in for him. She’d crawl into my bed at night and say things like, _if you were a guy…_ ”

“Ugh. That is so not okay,” Emma said.

Mulan sighed. “I know. But I just kept on lapping it all up like a lovesick fool. The first time she kissed me was in sophomore year. She and Phillip broke up, and we were at a party and we’d both had too much to drink. She said she couldn’t remember anything the next day. I did, though. Stuff like that kept happening every now and then for years, but we were never really together.”

She took a long draw of her beer, before continuing. “Sometimes I wonder if she even realised. I never actually told her how I felt, because every time I’d get up the courage to tell her, she’d be back with Phillip, or she’d say something that would make me certain she wouldn’t take it well.”

“Do you still see her?”

“No. It’s been over a year. I got an invitation to her wedding last year; after everything, of course she wound up back with Phillip.” Mulan rolled her eyes. “Big surprise there.”

“Did you go?”

“No way. I set the invitation on fire the moment I got it.”

“And do you feel like you’re over her? Like you’ve been able to move on?” Emma asked, hoping that there was a secret to it that she hadn’t quite figured out.

Mulan laughed. “Have you noticed how incredibly single I am? I don’t know, she did a real number on me. Sometimes I still catch myself thinking about her and I remember how in love I was and I feel like maybe I still am. And then sometimes, I really, really hate her.”

Emma sighed. “You were supposed to offer me hope that there’s light at the end of the tunnel. It’s been months since I moved away and I still don’t feel like I’m over Regina. Not even close.”

“She really messed you up, huh?”

Emma shook her head. “I was already messed up, long before I met her. But she made me feel like I might not be, for a little while at least.”

The collection of empty bottles on the coffee table was growing steadily larger, and Emma was feeling more and more hazy.

She cocked her head to the side and watched with curiosity as Mulan jumped up onto the sofa. Mulan’s eyes were bright and a little unfocused and her movements were chaotic as she waved around her beer and tried not to fall off the sofa. “I propose a toast,” she said, carefully sounding out each of the words. “To straight girls and the havoc they wreak.”

Emma climbed up beside her and clinked her bottle to Mulan’s, offering a toast of her own. “To emotionally unavailable women and the trail of broken hearts they leave.”

They drained their beers, before collapsing back down onto the sofa together, laughing. Nothing about it was funny, but Emma found that she couldn’t quite stop and from the look in Mulan’s eyes, it seemed she was feeling the same thing.

Emma wasn’t sure which one of them leaned in first; maybe it was both of them. The resulting kiss was messy and awkward, but for a moment, it felt so right and so good to be this close to someone again.

Mulan’s lips were soft but insistent and her hands came up to tangle in Emma’s hair as she deepened the kiss. At first, Emma responded enthusiastically, but gradually, that initial rightness was replaced with a sense of _wrong_. Mulan was attractive, clearly interested, and there was a spark between them that would have been more than enough for Emma a couple of years ago. But she’d changed. It wasn’t enough anymore.

She pulled back and smiled apologetically at Mulan. “I don’t want things to get complicated.”

“They don’t have to be, you know. This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Yeah, but I like you too much to be willing to take that risk.”

Mulan smiled a little sadly. “It’s a shame. It could have been fun. But I do understand.”

*****

Emma woke up the next morning, half-undressed, still on the sofa. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry and furry, and it felt like there were shards of glass rimming her eyelids. The coffee table bore the evidence of the previous evening’s misadventures; Emma wasn’t sure that she was capable of counting that many empty bottles in her present state.

Gradually, she became aware of the smell of breakfast cooking. Her stomach simultaneously roiled, nauseous from the copious volumes of alcohol she’d consumed, and grumbled with hunger. She made her way into the kitchen, where Mulan was cooking pancakes.

She frowned, remembering her partial lack of clothes and very little from late the night before, other than a kiss. “We didn’t… did we?”

Mulan grinned at her, disturbingly chipper for someone who had drunk so much the night before. “I’m devastated that you don’t remember our beautiful night together.” Emma gaped at her until Mulan took pity on her. “Relax. We kissed and decided it was a bad idea and nothing else happened. You refused to go to bed and started shedding clothes because it was, apparently, _too hot_.”

Emma tried not to look too relieved. It wasn’t that it would have been such a terrible thing, but she’d always had a rule about roommates being off-limits. “How are you this cheerful after a night like that, anyway?”

“You forget that I’m a soccer player. While you were out training for marathons, I was in a bar, training with my team mates. Now, would you like some pancakes?”

Emma grabbed some juice out of the fridge and a plate and wandered over to the stove. “If I’d known that not sleeping with someone would get me pancakes for breakfast, I’d have tried it ages ago.”

*****

Emma was disturbed from her avid contemplation of the ceiling by the sound of the front door opening. A moment later, Mulan walked in, juggling several bags of groceries. She walked past Emma on her way to the kitchen, pausing for a moment to shoot her a dirty look, before continuing on to dump the groceries on the bench.

Mulan walked back into the living room and glared at her, hands on hips. “Emma, what are you still doing here?”

Emma ignored the question. “Did you know that there’s a stain on the ceiling? It looks like water damage. Do you think it’s new? Should we report it?”

Mulan looked up at the section of ceiling that she indicated, before making an irritated noise and throwing a cushion at her from one of the armchairs.

“Did you forget that you promised you’d be out of here before I got home?”

“Hmm? Oh, shit. That’s right, you’re making dinner for Marian.” Emma finally realised why her normally very easy-going, mild-mannered roommate was pacing about the living room shooting laser beams from her eyes.

“Yes, I am. And you’re supposed to be halfway to Maine by now.” Mulan looked around the room, her eyes manic. “Do you have a bag packed? I’ll help you pack one if it’ll get you out of here sooner. I have hours of prep to do, and if dinner is anything less than perfect I will hold you personally responsible.”

There had been a standing invitation for the last three months to come for a weekend visit to see Mary Margaret, David, and baby Eva. Emma had managed to wiggle her way out of it on the basis of having to work, but for the first time in a while, she had a free weekend.

She’d finally agreed to visit, feeling guilty about her avoidance tactics, particularly given that Mary Margaret and David had come to visit her a couple of times in the first few months after she’d moved back to Boston. And knowing that Emma would be out of the apartment for the whole weekend, Mulan had planned a romantic night in with her new girlfriend.

A few months had passed since she and Mulan had almost fallen into bed together, and while Mulan had managed to find a way to begin to move on from Rory, Emma was still nursing an incredibly stubborn broken heart.

Mulan made another annoyed noise and Emma finally sat up. She’d planned to be on the road a couple of hours ago, but she’d gotten cold feet at the last minute. She wasn’t ready to go back to Storybrooke, wasn’t ready to be surrounded by familiar faces. She wasn’t ready to see Regina again. She’d thought she was, but now that the time was approaching, she felt completely unprepared.

Mulan wasn’t having a bar of it though. She walked into Emma’s room, emerging a moment later with the bag that Emma _had_ actually packed, tossing it onto the sofa next to her. She stood there with her arms folded, glaring at Emma.

“You are not going to still be here when Marian arrives. You know,” she remarked conversationally, “I know twenty-three different ways of killing someone with a spatula. If you’re still here, I just might decide to experiment until I discover a twenty-fourth.”

Emma groaned. “Alright, alright. I’m leaving. But maybe I need a snack first to get my strength up for the drive.”

Mulan walked into the kitchen, and a moment later, there was a chocolate bar flying across the room, straight at her head. She caught it just in time.

Emma glared at Mulan as she walked back into the living room. Mulan sat down next to her, sighing.

“Emma, I know this is hard for you, but you’re not going there to see _her_. You’re going to see friends, friends that you’ve told me you actually like. And maybe you’ll happen to see her, and maybe it’ll hurt, or maybe it won’t be nearly as terrible as you expect, but you won’t know until you’ve tried.”

Mulan was right, loath as Emma was to admit it. She had actually been looking forward to seeing Mary Margaret and David and some of her other friends back in Storybrooke. And she’d been looking forward to seeing Henry again. They were still in regular contact; she’d half-expected the e-mails to dry up after a couple of months, but he’d continued to write to her every couple of weeks.

Emma unwrapped the chocolate bar, grumbling as she did so. “How dare you be so sensible when I’m trying to wallow?” She took a bite, and Mulan took the opportunity presented by her mouth being full to continue to speak.

“Come on. Eat your chocolate bar and then I’ll help you take your bag downstairs. And once I’ve got you out of the apartment, I’m changing the locks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While re-reading this, I have realised that I must have some sort of bizarre, sub-conscious fixation on spatulas. This is the third scene where I've mentioned spatulas and I'm not entirely sure what that says about me.


	23. Chapter 23

Emma got into Storybrooke that evening and headed straight to the Nolans’ house. She was greeted by Mary Margaret who was holding a very small, very loud bundle of baby girl, which was immediately thrust into her arms. In her surprise, Emma forgot to be nervous; she hadn’t exactly had a lot of experience dealing with babies, especially not ones that were in the midst of expressing their displeasure with the world so audibly.

“Here, can you hold her for a minute while I try to rescue dinner?” Mary Margaret looked and sounded completely frazzled, and she didn’t wait for a response before dashing off to the kitchen.

Emma managed to manoeuvre herself into the house, juggling her bag and the baby, and shut the front door behind her with her heel. She put her bag down and headed for the kitchen, where Mary Margaret was just pulling dinner out of the oven.

“Sorry about that, Emma. She just wouldn’t settle and dinner was on the brink. Can you hold her for a little longer?”

“Sure.” Emma looked down at the still-screaming bundle of rage in her arms. “So is there a secret handshake or a password or something that gets her to stop crying?”

Mary Margaret sighed. “If only. If there is, I certainly haven’t figured it out yet.”

Emma tried jiggling the baby; she was pretty sure she’d seen that work in movies. Eva kept crying. Emma looked down at her. “This is a tough gig, huh? They make it look so easy on TV, but you’re not going to be quiet for me, are you?” She looked back up at Mary Margaret. “How are you handling everything?”

“She’s the most beautiful, incredible, perfect thing I’ve ever laid eyes on and I love her with everything that I am.” Mary Margaret smiled, looking at Eva lovingly. “But she’s also more exhausting than I ever could have imagined.”

David arrived home shortly afterwards, and Emma was relieved to hand over the baby, who finally settled for him.

They sat down to dinner and inevitably, the topic of conversation kept coming back to children and Emma wasn’t quite sure how to redirect it towards other topics.

“Have you ever thought about having children?” Mary Margaret asked.

“I’m not really settled enough to think about things like that right now, but I think, if anything, I’d foster. There are so many kids that need a chance…”

“That’s so good of you,” Mary Margaret said.

Emma shook her head. “It’s not. I just know that there are so many kids who’ve been dealt a really shitty hand in their life who’d benefit from having someone on their side.”

Mary Margaret looked like she was about to say something else, but Emma jumped in before she could and said, “These potatoes are really delicious. How did you get them to taste so good?”

Mary Margaret beamed at her. “Oh, thank you. Well, I parboil them and then coat them in flour and roast them in duck fat.”

Emma only half-listened to Mary Margaret as she continued to talk about her vegetable preparation methods, relieved that she’d finally managed to steer the conversation in a different direction.

There was a brief lull, before David asked her, “Are you catching up with Regina while you’re in town?” He winced a moment later, and Emma suspected that Mary Margaret had aimed a sharp kick at his shin.

She’d never admitted anything explicitly to Mary Margaret about the nature of her relationship with Regina, but Emma suspected that she had a pretty good idea about parts of it at least. There had been too many knowing looks over the last few months that she’d been living in Storybrooke, as well as the occasional anvil-sized hint dropped into conversation.

Emma kept her tone deliberately neutral as she responded. “We hadn’t made any plans.”

That was technically the truth. Regina presumably knew that she would be in town this weekend, because she’d told Henry, but she hadn’t made any attempt to let her know directly. She figured that she’d at least have to interact with her at some point, because she was hoping to catch up with Henry for a little while, but she’d been avoiding that conversation.

*****

Emma insisted on going to Granny’s for breakfast; she had a craving that only Granny’s pancakes could satisfy. She’d barely made it through the door before Granny came racing out from behind the counter, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Emma Swan, well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“I couldn’t resist the lure of your cooking forever. Your pancakes were calling to me from hundreds of miles away.”

Granny released her from the hug. “Did you hear that my Ruby got engaged to that handsome boy she’s been gallivanting around Europe with? Just as well she snapped him up, or else I’d have had a mind to do it myself.”

Emma laughed. “I did. We Skyped last week and she told me all about it.”

She made her way to a table with the Nolans, and was happily tucking into a serve of pancakes when Henry and Regina walked into the diner. She didn’t immediately see them, positioned as she was, with her back to the door, but she heard Regina’s voice, and put her cutlery down. Mary Margaret was looking at her with an odd expression, and then past her to where she presumed Regina was standing.

When Emma finally turned to look, she was a little taken aback at the sight of them; Henry had grown so much since she’d last seen him. He wasn’t the shrimpy little kid she’d left behind; he was almost as tall as his mother. And Regina was just as beautiful as Emma remembered. Her hair was a little bit longer, but other than that she was still exactly like the picture Emma had carried in her head all this time.

They didn’t immediately catch sight of her, as they made their way to a table. Emma tried not to , but she couldn’t help but glance across the diner to their table every now and then, and she caught Mary Margaret smiling and looking at her knowingly a couple of times.

A short time later, Henry noticed them. He came bounding over, dragging Regina in his wake. Regina hovered uncertainly, until Mary Margaret handed her the baby, who had started to fuss.

Henry immediately launched into conversation, grinning excitedly. “Miss Swan! You’re here.”

Emma smiled in response. “You know, kid, I’m not your teacher or your coach any more. I think it’s fine if you call me Emma.”

Henry cast a sidelong glance at his mother, before stage-whispering, “Yeah, but I think Mom would kill me if I did. Remember what happened last time we tried that?”

Emma did remember. It hadn’t been pretty.

“Maybe I could try to convince her.” She looked up at Regina. “So how about it, Regina? He looks tall enough to call me Emma.”

Regina was holding Eva, looking at the baby with an unguarded warmth she rarely showed, and she was radiant. It was the same look that Emma remembered from that first track meet, more than a year ago, the same look that Regina had very occasionally directed towards her. It was the look that helped Emma see a side of her that Regina had kept so carefully hidden. And seeing it again made her realise that as much as she might have managed to convince herself that her feelings for Regina had faded over the intervening months, they were very much as strong as ever.

At Emma’s question, Regina looked up from the baby. She rolled her eyes at Emma. “Fine. I’ve only spent the last twelve years trying to teach him manners, but if you must insist on undoing all my hard work, I suppose there’s nothing I can do.” She turned her attention back to the baby, who she finally managed to soothe.

Hearing that voice again... Emma had managed to forget just how much power it had over her, the way it could work it's way inside her and twist her in knots. 

Her heart was hammering in her chest. Even though outwardly she was managing to keep it cool, she was nervous. And now that she'd finally spoken to Regina, she felt a twinge of disappointment. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but Regina seemed content to ignore her and focus on Eva.

“Regina is the baby whisperer. I don’t know how she does it, but Eva just settles for her. It’s like magic.” Mary Margaret shook her head, a mix of awe and envy on her face as she watched Regina.

Regina smiled at Mary Margaret and said, “Practice. Lots of practice. Henry was such a fussy baby. Sometimes I thought he’d never stop crying.” She handed the baby back. “Come on Henry, we should let them eat their breakfast in peace.”

It took a while, but Emma eventually managed to get her heart rate back under control. She continued eating her breakfast, trying to pretend that nothing had happened, but she couldn't stop herself from looking towards Regina and Henry’s table every now and then. A couple of times she could have sworn that Regina had just been looking in her direction; she caught the tail end of a turn of the head and wondered if Regina wasn't quite as unaffected as she'd seemed a moment ago. She let her eyes linger, hoping to confirm her suspicions, but every time, Regina stared resolutely at the plate in front of her.

Mary Margaret continued to smile beatifically at her throughout breakfast and Emma wondered just how much bad form it would be to throw her breakfast at her. She decided against it, mostly because she was enjoying her pancakes too much.

A little while later, Emma went to the bathroom, and was just washing up at the basin when the door opened behind her. In the mirror, she could see Regina walk in, a slightly startled expression on her face.

“Em-ma?” She loved the way that Regina said her name sometimes, almost tasting the syllables, trying them out on her tongue, and it had been too long since she’d heard it.

She turned to face Regina. “Hey.”

Regina was wringing her hands nervously, looking anywhere but at Emma. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She started to turn to leave.

“Wait. Regina, I’m pretty sure we can manage to be in the same room as one another for 30 seconds. Besides, I’m just finishing up.” It was strange seeing Regina this timid, this uncertain and Emma didn’t know quite what to think.

“Of course.” Regina hesitated for a moment, appearing to be on the verge of saying something else.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” Regina finally returned her gaze, appearing to reach a decision. “Emma, are you free this afternoon? If you are, I thought you could come to visit Henry. I could bake.”

Emma smiled. “You should know by now that where your baking is concerned, Regina, I’m free anytime.” Regina seemed to relax at this, her hands stilling, her posture opening up. Emma continued to speak. “But in all seriousness, thank you. I was hoping I’d be able to spend a little time with Henry while I’m here and I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with it.”

“He’s been bursting with excitement all week at the prospect of seeing you. At this point, if I said no, I suspect he’d find a way to run off to Boston to see you.” She laughed, but it was a forced kind of sound and Emma suspected that it might actually have been a genuine concern at some point.

“Well, thank you anyway. I’ll see you later.”

“Any time after two will work,” Regina said. She smiled at Emma as she left, and Emma started to think that maybe things might work out after all.

She returned to the table, and Mary Margaret eyed her curiously, her expression changing to a knowing look when Emma said, “I’m going to visit Henry this afternoon.”

“And Regina?” Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yes… and Regina.”

*****

She stood on the doorstep of 108 Mifflin Street, hesitating, as she had so many times before. The morning’s encounter with Regina had made it clear that a year and several hundred miles of distance were not nearly enough to kill the feelings that had led her to leave Storybrooke. However, things _had_ changed.

She no longer felt an acutely painful reaction to Regina’s presence, or thoughts of what had passed between them. Instead, there was a dull ache, a faint, wistful sadness at what could have been. The feelings were still there, but she’d become better at keeping them corralled.

She finally rang the doorbell, and within moments was being dragged inside by Henry who was eager to show her his new video game.

“You know, the new track coach is nowhere near as good as you.”

Emma shot Henry a stern look. “You guys didn’t give him a hard time, did you?”

Henry sighed. “No. You told me to give him a chance and I did. And, he’s okay, but he’s not you.” He looked at her slyly. “He’s not coming back, next year. Did you know that?”

“I didn’t.” Emma tried to focus on the screen in front of her, where her character was in the process of being killed horribly yet again.

“Are you happy in Boston?”

Emma shrugged. “I’ve met some pretty cool people and I’ve learned a lot this year. I’m a much better coach than when I started the year.”

“Do you ever think about coming back to Storybrooke to live? You could go for your old job.”

“What is this, kid? Twenty questions?” She deflected that last question, not wanting to give Henry false hope. And the truth was, she wasn’t even sure what her answer would have been.

“Sorry.” Henry didn’t sound at all repentant. They played mostly in silence for a while, with occasional tips and encouragement from Henry. Emma thought she was starting to get the hang of the game, until Henry spoke again and her concentration slipped.

“Do you miss hanging out with my mom?”

She cursed as she died again. Henry snorted and said, “Don’t let Mom hear you saying that.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Sorry for corrupting your pure, unspoiled ears.”

He laughed. “I’ve heard worse.”

“Thought so.”

“So do you? Miss her, I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.” There had been so many times over the past year when she’d wondered what Regina was doing, wondered whether she’d made a mistake leaving. Thought that maybe if she’d tried a little harder, she could have made things work as friends. She missed late night glasses of wine and conversations with someone who seemed to instinctively understand her.

Emma threw up her hands in despair as she died for the third time in five minutes. “Kid, I’m terrible at this. I think I should just watch you play.”

“No way, Emma. You just need to practice and you’ll get better. That’s what you always told me about track. It takes hard work and commitment.”

“I’m not sure any amount of practice can make up for such a distinct lack of talent.”

Emma nearly dropped the game controller in surprise when she heard Regina speak, a healthy dose of mockery colouring her voice. She turned to see Regina leaning against the door frame, and she wondered how long she’d been there, whether she’d heard her confession a moment ago.

“Well thanks for the vote of confidence. Perhaps you’d like to show me how it’s done.”

“Gladly,” Regina said, with a smirk, and Emma was reminded that Regina had a competitive streak a mile wide. She suspected that she was about to be comprehensively schooled. Regina put a plate of cookies down on the coffee table, before sitting next to Emma, taking the controller from her.

Emma grabbed a cookie, and sat back to enjoy the show, sighing in satisfaction as she tasted Regina’s baking for the first time in a year. She was immediately transported to a world of bliss and wonder; Regina’s baking really was magical.

Her mouth fell open as she watched Regina expertly navigate the landscape that had given her so many problems a moment ago. It was even worse than she’d expected. “Seriously? How are you even doing this?”

She cried out in protest when there was a gentle elbow to her side.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s bad manners.” The effect of the words was undercut by the smile that Regina directed at her and the glint of humour in her eyes.

Emma swallowed her mouthful of cookie and glared at Regina. “And assaulting your guests isn’t?” She gestured at the game controller. “So how’d you get so good at this, anyway?”

“She sneaks in here and plays after I’ve gone to bed,” Henry interjected. At Regina’s indignant noise, he said, “What? You think I didn’t notice all of your save files, Mom?”

“Henry!”

He laughed at Regina’s mock outrage, and Emma watched as Regina reached over to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes and he leaned into the touch. There was a comfort there that hadn’t always been present before; they finally seemed to have sorted things out. It was a stark contrast to that night etched in Emma’s memory when Henry had hugged Regina and Regina had been so overwhelmed she’d been on the verge of tears. There was none of the tentativeness, none of the pained longing, none of the tension. Regina caught her watching them and the smile she gave Emma was so happy, so at peace and Emma found herself smiling back, genuinely glad to see Regina like this.

As Emma sat there gorging herself on cookies and watching Regina and Henry play games and banter back and forth, she marvelled at how easy it all was. How easy it was to just slip back into their lives and feel like she’d never left. How warm and comfortable it felt. And she thought that maybe she was ready, after all of this, to try to be Regina’s friend.

She stayed for a couple more hours, and found herself wishing she hadn’t already made dinner plans when Regina hinted that she might like to stay a little longer. And she didn’t miss the brief flicker of disappointment that crossed Regina’s face when she turned down the offer. It was quickly replaced by a smile, but it had definitely been there.

She ruffled Henry’s hair as she said goodbye. “Be good, kid.”

“Are you going to be around tomorrow?” Henry asked.

She shook her head. “I’m heading back to Boston first thing in the morning. I’ve got some things I need to get done in the afternoon.

“When are you coming to visit again?”

“I don’t know yet, kid. I wouldn’t want to wear out my welcome.”

Regina was standing next to Henry, silently listening to this exchange. Emma hesitated for a moment, before stepping forward and pulling Regina into a quick hug.

“It was good to see you, both of you.”

As they stepped back from one another, Regina said, “Emma? You should come back again soon. We’ve missed you.”

Emma carried the warmth of her gaze all the way back to Boston.

*****

She passed Marian in the hall on her way up to the apartment and had to stifle a laugh when she realised that she was wearing one of Mulan’s shirts.

She’d met Marian a couple of times out at drinks before Mulan had started dating her and really liked her. She seemed like a good fit for Mulan, and judging by the timing of her departure and the new addition to her wardrobe, Emma suspected dinner on Friday night had gone _really_ well.

She unlocked the front door, walking in and dumping her bag. She walked past Mulan who was sitting on the sofa, looking at the blank television with an uncharacteristically goofy smile on her face. She didn’t even look up as Emma went past. Emma grinned and revised her assessment. Friday night (and Saturday and Sunday probably) had _definitely_ gone really well.

Emma poked around in the fridge until she found a Gatorade. She walked back into the living room, and yelled, “Catch!” before throwing the bottle to Mulan.

Mulan yelped in surprise as she caught the bottle. She looked at Emma in confusion. “What was that for?”

“As a coach, you should understand the importance of rehydrating after serious physical exertion. Not getting enough fluids can seriously detract from your recovery.” She smiled slyly and said, “And I’m sure Marian wouldn’t want that.”

Emma laughed and dodged just in time as a cushion went flying past her head.

“Don’t make me show you the number of ways I can kill someone with an X-box controller.” Mulan crossed her arms and gave her a death glare. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the smile that kept trying to return to her face.

Emma sighed. “I’ve already experienced too many deaths that way this weekend.”

“I’ll be more than happy to add to that tally if you keep this up.”

Emma waggled her eyebrows, deciding to ride her luck a little further. “So, any surfaces I need to disinfect before I use them?” She screwed up her face when Mulan started to smile again. “On second thoughts, please don’t tell me.”

Emma was relieved when Mulan cracked open the Gatorade and sipped at it instead of responding. A moment later, she said, “You seem to be in a much better mood than when you left for Storybrooke.”

“I am.” Emma smirked and said, “So are you, for that matter.”

Mulan rolled her eyes, but the smile that had been creeping across her face turned into a fully-fledged grin. “It was a good weekend,” she said quietly.

“I’m happy for you.” Mulan needed something like this and Emma was genuinely excited for her.

“Thank you. So I take it things went better than you expected,” Mulan said.

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know what I expected. But yeah, it was good. It was good to catch up with friends and see Henry.”

“And Regina?” Mulan said pointedly.

“And Regina. I don’t know. It was a little awkward at first, but then it wasn’t. Then it kind of felt a bit like when things were good.”

“When are you going to see her again?”

Emma sighed. “I don’t know. I kind of feel like I should play it cool. I don’t think there’s anything on the table other than friendship at this point, but I think I’m okay with that now.”

Mulan eyed her a little sceptically. “If you say so.”

Emma was eager to change the subject. She still wasn’t sure where her head was at with this whole thing. She needed time to think.

“So, tell me all the PG-rated details about your weekend. Did you leave the apartment at all?” She smirked. “Or more to the point, did Marian leave the apartment at all?”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rewritten this chapter twice, and I don't think I'll ever be completely happy with it, so I'm posting it before it drives me completely insane. Hope it was worth the wait.

* * *

Emma looked at the display on her phone, surprised. _Regina._ She hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the accept call button.

“You gonna get that?”

Emma looked up from her phone to see Mulan leaning against the kitchen bench, watching her. She hesitated a moment longer, before accepting the call. She walked into her bedroom and shut the door behind her, before finally lifting the phone to her ear.

“Hey.”

_“Emma, hi. Is this a bad time?”_

Emma tried to ignore the way that her heart sped up at the sound of Regina’s voice, and struggled to keep her voice casual as she responded. “Uh… no. Not bad. It’s a great time. Perfect, even.” She scowled as she realised how stupid that sounded.

_“I was just calling to see if you wanted to come to dinner this Saturday night. I could make up the spare room for you. Henry really enjoyed seeing you again… and so did I.”_

“That would be…” She stopped, remembering her schedule. The track season was over, but her days still weren’t entirely her own. “I’m sorry, I’m busy this weekend.”

_“What about next weekend?”_

“I can’t make it then, either.”

There was a pause, and then, _“Oh. That’s okay. I guess…”_ Even over the phone, Emma could pick up in the change in Regina’s tone to something that sounded like… disappointment?

She realised that her response must have sounded like a brush-off. “Regina, wait… I’m helping run some private coaching clinics the next couple of weeks. But I’m free the weekend after that.”

Another pause, then Regina’s voice, normal again. _“Great, I’ll see you then.”_

“Yeah. See you then.”

Emma pressed the end call button on her phone, and sat on her bed staring into space. She wasn’t sure what to think.

Eventually, she went back out into the living room, and Mulan looked at her appraisingly from her position on the sofa. She got up and walked into the kitchen and when she returned, she handed a beer to Emma, before sitting back down.

“It was her, wasn’t it?”

Emma opened the beer and took a long draught before answering. “Yeah.”

“What did she want?”

“She invited me back up to Storybrooke for dinner in a couple of weeks’ time.”

“Are you going?” There was something in Mulan’s tone that made Emma avoid eye contact.

She picked at the label on the bottle, peeling off a couple of strips. Eventually, she responded. “I said yes.”

Mulan gave her a knowing look. “Just friends, huh?”

“Just friends.” It sounded false even to her ears. She glared at Mulan. “Why are you being so weird about this? You’re the one who pushed me out the door to Storybrooke a couple of weeks ago. And now...”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been there. The more you’ve told me about her, the more I worry. Months of nothing, and then…” Mulan shook her head. “Be careful, Emma. I don’t want to see you getting hurt again.”

*****

Even though Regina had offered to let her stay in her spare room, it had seemed like a safer option to book a room at Granny’s. A room that she wasn’t sure she was actually going to make it back to sleep in, despite the best of intentions.

Henry had long since gone to bed, and she and Regina were sitting in the living room, drinking wine and talking, just as they had so many evenings before. They’d unconsciously gravitated to their usual positions, at either end of the sofa, and somehow, it felt so right, even after all this time and after everything that had passed between them. She’d missed this.

There was a tension in the air at times; although Emma kept telling herself that this was just about being friends, there were moments that she doubted that. There were moments when she’d catch Regina looking at her with an unreadable expression and Emma wondered what was going through her head.

She was tempted to ask Regina why she’d asked her here, and why now, after all this time. She didn’t, though. She didn’t want to risk damaging this reborn friendship, or whatever this was, while it was so new and so fragile.

There was a faint voice whispering a warning in the back of her mind that maybe none of this was a good idea and maybe she couldn’t be trusted not to open herself up to more heartache. It sounded a lot like Mulan. She pushed it away.

Regina topped up their glasses with the remainder of a bottle and sat fidgeting with her glass. The conversation for most of the evening had been light; catching up on town gossip, Emma talking about her coaching job, Regina talking about school. But there was a silence that had stretched out for long moments and Emma suddenly couldn’t find anything to fill it with.

Several times Regina appeared on the verge of saying something, before stopping herself. She made it through half her glass before she appeared to reach a decision. Finally, she spoke.

“Emma, there’s something that I’ve wanted to tell you for a while. I almost picked up the phone and called you so many times in the last few months, but I wasn’t even sure you’d answer.”

“If you’d called, I would have answered.” Emma couldn’t help the tension that crept into her voice at this admission.

“But I gave you every reason not to. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t,” Regina said softly, not looking at her.

“I’m here now and I’m talking to you.” Emma reached out and briefly laid a hand on Regina’s knee. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

Regina looked up, finally meeting her eyes. Emma tried to read her expression, but Regina was keeping her face carefully neutral. “My mother threatened to sue for custody of Henry.”

Emma didn’t know what she’d expected Regina to say, but this certainly wasn’t it. “What? How could she? You’re his _mother_.”

“She said she’d looked into the adoption and there were problems with the processes that had been followed.” Regina managed to keep her tone even, but Emma could see her jaw working now, could see the turmoil sitting just below the surface.

“When did this happen?”

“She first started to talk about it a couple of months before you left.”

Emma felt a stab of guilt at this information. While she’d been moping around, Regina had been worrying about losing her son. “I wish you’d told me. If I’d known that was going on, I wouldn’t have left you to face it alone.”

Regina shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t let you get involved. You’ve met my mother; what she wants, she gets, and anyone who stands in the way, well…” Regina shrugged.

“Is she still giving you trouble?” The thought of Regina going through that kind of pain and fear… Emma was furious. Cora Mills had long since earned a place at the top of her list of least favourite people, and this just reinforced Emma’s extreme dislike of the woman.

Regina shook her head. “She’s out of my life now.”

“How did you manage that?” Emma was surprised. Nothing about Cora suggested that she was one to give up easily.

“It’s probably best you don’t know the details, but I found out where some of her bodies were buried.” She looked at Emma, gauging her response. “Are you shocked that I would resort to blackmailing my own mother?”

“I’ve met your mother, remember? Blackmail seems like a very mild response, to be honest. Dropping a thermonuclear warhead on her probably wouldn’t be overdoing things.”

“Except she’d probably survive the blast,” Regina said dryly. “When the world ends, it’ll just be my mother and the cockroaches left. And she’ll somehow find a way to bend them to her will.” Regina sighed. “There’s more…” she started to say, but Emma interrupted.

“Regina, I feel like I need to clear my conscience. The job offer I got, I think your mother was behind it. Everything about it was too good to be true, but I didn’t question it. And from what I heard after I started, there was some drama behind the scenes about my appointment. And…” Emma paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Knowing what she knew now, she was starting to feel ashamed that she’d taken the easy way out. “And the timing was suspicious. It wasn’t long after your mother came to see me.”

“She came to see you?” Regina asked, her voice sharp. “Did she threaten you?”

Emma hesitated before responding. “Kind of. Not in so many words.”

“Emma, why didn’t you tell me?” Regina’s voice rose an octave.

“Honestly, there wasn’t much to tell. I figured that whatever happened, I’d be able to handle it.” Emma shrugged. “Besides, we weren’t exactly talking at the time.”

“She played both of us, then.” Regina’s lip curled in disgust. “She was convinced that we were in a relationship and she told me she’d find a way to make that work against me if it came to a custody hearing. And she has enough connections that I couldn’t be sure that she was bluffing.”

“But we _weren’t_ together.”

“I explained that to her. And for a while, I fooled myself into believing that I could keep things the way they were and appease her at the same time. But then that night, you told me how you felt and I realised it was never going to work.

“In the end, though, it didn’t matter. She was always going to do what she could to bring me under her control. I should have just told her to go to hell, but I was so terrified of losing Henry.” Regina smiled wryly. “She sued for custody anyway. She lost.”

“I would have stayed, you know,” Emma said softly. “Not with any expectation that anything could happen between us – you already made that clear enough – but because you deserved to have someone there for you, someone who had your back.”

“I know you would have. But I had to protect Henry, whatever the cost, and you were a weapon that could have been used against me” Regina said, her voice low and rough. “And I wanted to protect _you_ , even if the only way to do that was to lose you completely.”

“You should have given me a choice.” Emma couldn’t help the frustration that crept into her tone. She desperately wanted to turn back the clock. She wanted to be able to change her decisions, to fight for what had been between them, to protect Regina. But time had marched on, and all she was left with was regret over choices she didn’t realise had existed.

“Don’t you understand? There _wasn’t_ a choice.” Emma could hear the steel in Regina’s tone. She remembered Regina saying that she’d learned to be hard after Cora, and she could see it now, more clearly than she ever had. “If you’d stayed, Mother would have used you against me, or she would have ruined you, just because you were someone I cared about and just because she could.” Regina shook her head. “Either way, I would have lost you. I chose the option that kept you safest.”

“You make it sound so easy. Just like that, you could decide to flip a switch, push me away and act as if there was nothing at all between us. Was it easy because none of it was real for you, not like it was for me?” Emma spat those last words out. She took a sip of her wine, hoping to wash the taste of them away, but the wine turned to acid in her mouth. She knew it wasn’t fair, but old wounds were reopening and she suddenly felt so raw and so hurt that she couldn’t stop herself from lashing out.

“None of it was easy. How could you even ask that?” Regina’s eyes were dark and shining and the words came out like they were trapped in her chest, trying to escape. “I was finally ready to take a chance on you, on _us_ , but I had to give up on all of that because of _her_.” Her voice was soft now, low and steeped in bitterness. “Of course it wasn’t easy.”

There was a feeling that had been building and building as Regina spoke, a complex maelstrom of emotions that Emma couldn’t quite put a name to. Anger, sadness, grief, frustration; perhaps they were all part of the mix, but Emma couldn’t pin any of them down. And with that last confession, Emma was pushed beyond the brink.

Suddenly, the room felt stifling, and she barely heard Regina’s concerned question. Her hands were shaking, and she realised that the wine in her glass was sloshing over the sides. She tried to put her glass down on the table, but succeeded only in knocking the glass over completely.

Regina tried to reach for her hands, but she snatched them away, and then she was standing and backing away, tripping over furniture.

“I need some air.” Emma hardly recognised her own voice; it was choked, raspy, and getting the words out was almost painful.

She could hear Regina calling after her as she ran down the street, but she didn’t slow down, didn’t turn to look. Eventually, the calls stopped.

*****

Emma walked without purpose. Her head was too full, thoughts swirling and churning, and she had no attention left to take note of her surroundings. Without quite knowing how she got there, she was down at the docks. She could hear fishermen calling instructions to each other, jarringly loud in the otherwise still night, and she walked along the harbour, away from the bustle, until she could jump down onto the rocks on the foreshore.

She tripped a couple of times, so she took off her shoes and kept walking. As she moved, the sting of sharp rocks digging into the soles of her feet and the difficulty of navigating by little more than moonlight quieted some of the raging torrent of thoughts for a moment at least.

She left the late night bustle of the docks far behind, and the only sound now was the ocean lapping gently at the shore. She sat down and finally tried to risk wading into the stormy waters of her mind. Among the mess of emotions running rampant through her mind, the one that stood out the most, the one that ran deepest, was anger.

She was angry at herself for running, because maybe if she’d stayed, maybe if she’d pushed a little harder, dug a little deeper, she would have found out what Cora was doing. Instead, she’d taken the easy way out, just like she always had.

She was angry at Regina for high-handedly deciding that her way was the only way. That the best way to protect her was to keep her in the dark, rather than stand shoulder to shoulder with her, united and strong. That after everything, Regina still hadn’t trusted her enough to let her in, to tell her the truth, even if it concerned her too.

And she was angry at Cora for the havoc she’d wreaked, the heartless destruction, the years and years of manipulation and abuse that had led them to this place.

She felt the anger swelling, growing until it filled every crevice of her, and she was certain that if she didn’t let some of it out, her skin would split and she’d be torn entirely in half. She stood up and hurled rock after rock into the ocean, until her muscles were burning and too weak to lift her arm anymore, but it wasn’t enough. The anger was still there, filling her lungs and drowning her.

The tide was coming in; a wave washed over her feet, the water freezing even though it was summer. She took a step out and then another and another until she was knee deep, and it still wasn’t enough, so she waded out until the water was midway up her torso. It was cold, so cold, and it stole the breath from her lungs. But finally, with the icy press of the water all around her, she felt the anger begin to subside.

There was space now, space in her head for other things, and Regina’s final confession – _I was ready to take a chance on us_ – loomed large in her thoughts. There was an answer in there somewhere, an answer to the doubts that had plagued her for so long, but there were also questions and she suddenly needed to know, more than anything else. She waded back to the shore, shivering violently, her clothes clinging to her uncomfortably, wet and cold and heavy.

The sun was coming up as she clumsily picked her way back along the shore, her feet still numb from the icy water. She finally reached a point where she could climb back up onto the boardwalk and she walked through the streets of Storybrooke, purpose suddenly filling each step.

“Emma!”

She turned at the sound of her name and saw Archie across the street, walking Pongo. She gave him a distracted wave before continuing on her way. He called out to her again and she ignored him; she had somewhere she needed to be. He jogged across the street, intercepting her, and she looked at him in confusion.

“Emma, are you alright?”

He was looking at her with concern, and she finally realised why. She must have looked like a mess; her clothes were drenched, her hair windswept and tangled and she was barefoot, having been unable to find her shoes again.

“I’m fine.” She tried to brush him off; she didn’t want to stop and talk right now.

“You’re bleeding, Emma. What happened?”

She looked down, following the direction of his gaze a moment ago and saw that he was right; there was a gash on her foot that was bleeding, along with several other cuts.

“It’s nothing, Archie. Look, I just need to get back.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She broke into a jog, a sense of urgency propelling her onwards, even though she could feel the pain of her lacerated feet with every footfall. Soon, she was standing outside 108 Mifflin and she didn’t hesitate.

Regina answered the door, and she looked small in a way that Emma had only seen once before, and Emma hated to think that this time she was the cause of it. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, she had what looked like fresh tear tracks on her cheeks, and her hair was dishevelled. She had a robe on, and she clutched at the neckline of it, pulling it tight across her body as if it could shield her from some kind of attack. Although she appeared to have just come from her bed, to Emma’s eyes, there was no evidence that Regina had slept.

“Emma?” Regina’s voice was soft, tentative, but her eyes widened as she took in Emma’s appearance. Her voice was firmer, laced with concern as she said, “Emma, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“Please, Emma, let me look at those cuts. Come inside.” Regina released her grip on her robe and reached out for Emma’s hand, but she stepped back, out of reach. Regina’s hands fell and Emma watched as she wrung them fretfully.

“No. I need to ask you something. That night…” She didn’t need to say which one; the recognition in Regina’s eyes was immediate. “I need to know. How did you feel about me then?”

Regina looked down at her hands, before looking up at Emma through lashes wet with tears. “I was in love with you.”

“And now?” Emma held her breath as she waited for Regina’s response; her heart suddenly felt too big for her chest, and if she exhaled she was certain that there wouldn’t be room for another breath in.

“I still am.” This time, Regina’s gaze was direct, her face open and vulnerable.

Emma let out the breath she’d been holding; she had the answer she’d hardly dared to hope for and it was too much. Her head felt like it was spinning; for a moment, she thought she might pass out. She knew she ought to say something, but couldn’t quite get the words to form, and the time where she could have said something passed. Regina’s face turned shuttered.

“Emma, you don’t have to stay, but please let me take care of those cuts. Some of them look really bad.” Regina took a step forward, taking her hand and pulling her inside. She didn’t resist.

Regina closed the door behind them, dropping Emma’s hand. She started to walk down the hall, gesturing at Emma to follow.

“Wait.” Belatedly, Emma found her voice again. Regina turned to face her, arms folded.

“Regina...” She trailed off. There was so much she wanted to say, so much they needed to talk about. But right now, words didn’t feel like enough, it felt like they’d only get in the way. Instead, Emma closed the distance between them. There would be time for words later.

Regina’s eyes widened as Emma lifted a hand to cup her cheek and there was a moment when Emma thought she might draw away. She hesitated. But then, Regina unfolded her arms and her hands settled on Emma’s waist. And when Emma finally leaned in, Regina met her halfway.

It was nothing like the last kiss they’d shared. That one had been laced with finality, bittersweet with the knowledge that there could be nothing more between them. This one held hope, the promise of a future they’d never quite dared to dream was possible.

Emma’s hands were slow, deliberate as they mapped the contours of Regina’s face, the line of her jaw, her throat, seeking constant reassurance that this was real, that the illusion wasn’t about to be shattered.

She felt Regina sob against her mouth, and when she tried to draw back a little, tried to soften the kiss, Regina pulled her tighter against her, one hand clutching at the back of her neck, the other sliding under her shirt to settle at the small of her back. She allowed herself to be drawn deeper, surrendered to insistent lips and urgent hands and responded with everything that she was, with everything that she felt.

Gradually, though, the intensity lessened and this time, when Emma slowed things down, Regina let her, until their lips were soft and languid and smiling.

When they finally came up for air, they stood close, still breathing each other in. Regina’s eyes were soft and wondering, her lips parted, as Emma’s hands cupped her face, thumbs drawing gentle caresses across her cheeks.

And drinking in the sight of her, the thrum of Regina’s kisses still potent and heady in her blood, Emma knew. This was where she wanted to be.

She leaned forward again and pressed her lips to Regina’s forehead, her cheeks, the line of her jaw. Finally, she brought her lips to Regina’s ear and found the only words she needed to say. “I love you.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, guys. It's just a short epilogue... hope you enjoy it. I'll save the long, self-indulgent author's note for the end so you don't get an RSI scrolling past it.

* * *

Emma rolled onto her side and cursed as she looked at the clock blinking at her from the nightstand. She was going to be late for her first day of work if she didn’t get a serious move on.

Regina slid an arm around her waist and kissed her shoulder. Emma rolled onto her back, sighing as she did so.

“I knew I shouldn’t have stayed over.” She narrowed her eyes at Regina. “I should have known you couldn’t be trusted.”

Regina laughed throatily. “It just seemed like you needed some help settling those first day nerves. And besides, you certainly weren’t complaining a couple of minutes ago.”

“You’re right. I definitely wasn’t. Whatever the opposite of complaining is, that’s what I was doing. Twice.”

Regina was hovering over her, and Emma reached up to run her fingers through Regina’s hair. She traced the line of her jaw, before sliding her hand around to the back of her neck, pulling her down into a kiss. Regina pressed into her, deepening the kiss and gasping as Emma ran her hands up and down her sides.

Eventually, Regina broke the kiss, breathing heavily as she said, “Come on. You really are going to be late if we keep this up.”

“Do I have to go to school today?” Emma pouted. “I don’t wanna go. I just want to stay in bed, with you.”

Regina snorted. “Because that wouldn’t look at all suspicious if neither of us turned up.”

Emma threw her head back dramatically, one hand resting against her forehead. “I think I have a temperature.”

“If this is a way to get me to tell you that you’re hot, it’s not going to work. Your ego is perfectly healthy.” Regina pressed her lips to Emma’s forehead. “And so are you. Definitely no temperature.”

“There might be somewhere else,” Emma said slyly.

Regina sat up, crossing her arms and looking sternly at Emma. The effect was somewhat spoiled by her total lack of clothing. “Come on. Up now or you’ll find out how I deal with malingerers who refuse to get out of bed.”

“Fine,” Emma grumbled.

She sat up and watched as Regina headed for the shower, enjoying the view for a moment. After a lifetime of shitty luck, she finally felt like she’d hit the jackpot. She still lay in bed every morning wondering if she should pinch herself to check that she was actually awake and not still dreaming. After everything that had happened, she couldn’t quite believe that she was here, couldn’t quite believe that she was falling asleep and waking up next to Regina.

She’d been back in Storybrooke for two weeks, and for the two months before that, she’d come up as often as she could. And she and Regina had talked and talked and talked. There was so much time to make up for, so many secrets and half-truths to work through, and so much trust to rebuild.

Emma knew that if it were anyone else, she would have run as far and as fast as she could, and there’d been maybe half a second when she’d considered it. But she couldn’t. Not when she finally had confirmation of Regina’s feelings. Not when there was this pull between them that time and distance had done absolutely nothing to diminish, a pull that Emma was powerless to resist.

And Emma understood now; she finally had all the pieces of the puzzle in front of her and she could see the way that Cora had shaped and moulded Regina and why it had all played out as it did. She understood Regina’s need to protect Henry and to protect herself, when she’d spent a lifetime having things taken from her by the one person she ought to be able to trust.

There were regrets on both sides and so much baggage that they both carried and they were working as hard as they could to let go of it all. And they were both so used to facing things alone; it was hard to unlearn the habits of years and years, but they were getting there. They were finding their way together.

_Together._ She smiled.

Her reverie was disturbed by the sound of water running and then Regina poking her head around the door, looking at her pointedly and saying, “Come _on_ , Emma.”

*****

They walked into the kitchen, hand in hand. Henry was sitting at the table, shovelling breakfast cereal into his mouth. He looked up for a moment, grunting what could have been a hello, before looking back down at his bowl.

“You’re up early, dear,” Regina said.

There was another grunt, which they both rolled their eyes at. “It’s like my sweet little boy has been replaced with some sort of caveman,” Regina whispered, just loud enough so that both she and Henry could hear. She laughed and Henry slurped milk off his spoon, noisily, in a way that Emma just knew would be driving Regina absolutely insane.

Regina sighed audibly, then shrugged and shot Emma a _what can I do_ kind of look, before moving to start making breakfast.

Regina’s fingers trailed a path along Emma’s lower back as she moved around her to get to the toaster and she bumped Emma with her hip to nudge her out of the way of the crockery drawer. Emma looked up from pouring her cereal into a bowl, smiling as Regina brushed her lips across her cheek.

As new as this particular dance was to them both, they’d fallen into an easy rhythm on the mornings that Emma stayed over. They were still learning some of the steps, still learning how to move with one another. They fit, though, and Emma cherished these little moments, the glances, the fleeting touches, the wordless _I love yous_.

“You guys are so gross. It’s putting me off my food,” Henry said, before continuing to inhale his breakfast.

Regina snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think so. It is my deepest, most sincere wish that you might go off food; my grocery bill has tripled in the last few months.”

“Yeah, well it’s not my fault.” Henry looked pointedly at Emma. “If you’re worried about anyone’s appetite sending you broke, you should look at Emma first. She’s the garbage disposal on legs around here.”

“Hey! I can’t help it if your Mom is the most amazing cook within at least a 2000-mile radius. It would be immoral for me not to give her cooking the appreciation it deserves. And the appreciation it rightfully deserves is second and third helpings.” She grinned at Regina, who shook her head in mock exasperation.

She caught hold of Regina’s free hand and brought it to her lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

“Ugh! _So_ gross. Pretty sure there’s some sort of international law that says children have the right to be protected from PDAs between their Mom and their track coach.”

Henry continued to grumble under his breath, as Emma responded. “Yeah? You think so? You know this is at least partially your fault, right kid?”

“Yeah, well I didn’t think you’d be this bad.” He rolled his eyes and sighed melodramatically. His spoon clattered in his now empty bowl, as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, looking every inch the bratty teenager that he was.

She leaned in to press a quick peck to Regina’s lips and as she did, she snuck a look at Henry out of the corner of her eye. The little shit was smiling.

*****

They pulled into the parking lot at Storybrooke Academy. Everything had fallen into place surprisingly easily, even though Emma had worried that she and Regina might have to manage long-distance for a while. When Headmistress Lucas had heard she was visiting Storybrooke, she’d approached Emma to ask if she was interested in taking back her old job. It hadn’t taken her long to say yes.

On the short drive over, Emma had fidgeted nervously the whole way, even though she already knew the school and knew the people she was working with. She was nervous, though, for a multitude of reasons, and she could feel her heart beating a little too fast.

They’d decided to be open with their relationship, recognising the futility of keeping much of anything secret in Storybrooke, and so far only Headmistress Lucas knew officially. So there was that. She was also nervous about teaching again, even though she was feeling far more grounded than she had at the end of her previous year here. She’d kept seeing her counsellor for most of her year in Boston and she finally felt like she was ready, but it was still hard to shake that residual uncertainty.

Regina turned off the ignition and in what Emma suspected was an attempt to distract her from her nerves, she asked, “How’s unpacking going? Made much progress?”

Emma shook her head. “There’s still an obstacle course of boxes from my kitchen to the front door.” All her worldly possessions were currently sitting in boxes that she’d barely started unpacking and there was a bed that she’d slept in maybe twice since she’d arrived back in town.

Mulan had teased her about U-hauling when she’d said she was moving back to Storybrooke, and she probably wasn’t far off the mark. Not that Mulan really had any room to talk, given that she’d used the opportunity presented by Emma's departure to move in with Marian.

“I should come over and help you unpack some of those boxes this weekend.”

She tried to clamp down on the surge of insecurity that welled up, but couldn’t quite keep it all under wraps. There were some things that they were still cautiously feeling their way through. “Have I been spending too much time at your place?” she asked as neutrally as she could.

Regina took both her hands and looked at her seriously. “No. I love having you with me. But I know that sometimes you need some space.”

It was true. There were some mornings when she’d creep out before the sun came up and run, her legs eating up the miles, putting as much distance as she could behind her. She always came back, though.

Regina’s tone lightened. “I just want to make sure that space is one where you’re not at risk of being crushed by a falling box of Nickelback CDs.”

“You saw those?” Emma screwed up her face.

Regina’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “I did.”

“Is there any way I can make you forget you ever saw those?”

“I have a few ideas we can discuss later.” She bit her lip in a way that Emma found incredibly distracting. “Right now, though, we should go in.” She looked at her watch. “We should _definitely_ go in.”

They got out of the car, and walked the short distance to the administration building. Regina smiled at her again, and she felt her heart begin to slow, to calm, like she was cooling off after a race.

She’d spent so much of her life running, constantly moving forward, unsure if she was searching for a finish line that might not exist, or simply trying to get away. And coming back to Storybrooke, walking into Academy again, it should have felt like a stumble, a loss of ground, but it didn’t. It felt like she was finally ready to stop. Like she was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-indulgent ramble time... feel free to leave.
> 
> I can't quite believe that I've actually finished this thing. I started it over a year ago, having not written a single piece of fiction in over a decade and nothing longer than a short story. I've fumbled my way through the writing process, relearning old skills and learning new ones, and it's been a really wild ride. I'm really proud of this story, not necessarily because I think it's brilliant, but simply because it exists; I never really believed I had it in me to write a novel-length piece of fiction.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you so much to everyone who read, followed, favourited, left kudos, commented. I'm still absolutely blown away by how many of you have said nice things about this story. I'm not sure I would have made it to the end without all of that support. You've all been absolutely wonderful and I love you for it. And thank you for your patience - I know there were some really long gaps between some of the updates.
> 
> To be honest, the support has mostly been a blessing, but occasionally a curse, because I've worried about letting you down with what I wrote. None of this story has been beta'ed, so I didn't have anyone to pull me up on any stupid storytelling decisions I might make (there were probably a few), any overly-purple prose (there was probably a lot), or any out-of-character moments. And posting every new chapter has been a slightly nerve-wracking experience, because I haven't wanted to disappoint anyone (even though I know you can't please everyone all the time). I suspect some of you may feel like there should have been another chapter or two at the end, where they talked things out, or perhaps the ending should have been arrived at in a different way. They'd all be valid criticisms, but I wrote the story I wanted to write.
> 
> I hope that now it's all done, you've enjoyed the story. I'm not sure if I'll start any more long-fic for a while. I'm just about to start back at school, so my free time will become decidedly limited. But feel free to send me prompts on tumblr - I should have some time here and there to write the occasional one-shot.


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